Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed
by fernshadowe
Summary: Lydia has awakened from a two-hundred year sleep into a new world. Deadly, dangerous, and exhilarating. After a life-threatening injury, she decides to hire a smart-mouthed merc to accompany her on a journey to find her kidnapped son. As they trek the Commonwealth, she may find something she hadn't been looking for. Slow burn FSS/MacCready. M for language, violence, sexual content
1. Running Gun Blues

**Author's Note:**

 **Welcome to my story! I realize that there are quite a few Female Soul Survivor/MacCready pairing stories floating around out there but I do hope you enjoy mine. This is loosely based on a combination of my various Fallout 4 play-throughs (with minor canon-divergence). This is my first time ever uploading anything I've written for public viewing, so I'm anxious to hear what you guys think! Praise and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated! Some of the dialogue is taken from game and does not belong to me. Thanks and I'll leave you to it...**

* * *

 **Preface**

" _I'm a phallus in pigtails_

 _And there's blood on my nose_

 _And my tissue is rotting_

 _Where the rats chew my bones_

 _And my eye sockets empty_

 _See nothing but pain_

 _I keep having this brainstorm_

 _About twelve times a day_

 _So now you could spend the morning walking with me_

 _Quite amazed_

 _As I'm unwashed_

 _And somewhat slightly dazed"_

 **Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed** _ **– David Bowie**_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **Running Gun Blues**

" _I count the corpses on my left_

 _I find I'm not so tidy_

 _So I better get away_

 _Better make it today_

 _I've cut twenty-three down since Friday_

 _But I can't control it_

 _My face is drawn_

 _My instinct still emotes it"_

 **Running Gun Blues** _ **-David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia inhaled another drag of her cigarette. She was mostly getting filter at this point, but it wouldn't do to be wasteful. Cigarettes, along with everything else, were a rare luxury in the apocalypse. The smoke spent, she dropped the butt on the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of her boot.

Dusk was falling over Diamond City. Lydia pushed herself away from the wall of the Dugout Inn and slowly made her way through the city toward its gate. The merchants were all beginning to close up shop for the night. She quickened her pace as she neared the newspaper stand, hoping to avoid another conversation with the nosy reporter.

Lydia was halfway up the ramp out of the city when she heard hurried steps on the metal behind her.

"Hey, Blue! Wait up!"

 _Shit_. Lydia cursed internally and rolled her eyes. She turned to face Piper, displeasure evident on her face. "I asked you not to call me that," Lydia hissed, glancing around to make sure nobody had overheard. She wasn't keen on the idea of people finding out that she'd just crawled out of a vault. Being a "vaultie" was generally seen as being weak out in the Commonwealth and not something you'd want to brag about openly.

Piper held up her hands in a show of surrender. "Sorry," she began, "I'm just-"

"Still not interested in an interview, Piper," Lydia snapped at the other woman.

"Hey, I was just coming to offer you some advice before you go waltzing out into the dark on a suicide mission," she retorted.

Lydia ran a hand through her dark hair and let out an exasperated sigh. "Alright, what is it?"

"I've heard, through the grapevine, that you're going out to rescue Nick Valentine. I've also heard that he's being kept in that old subway station that's filled to the brim with Triggermen."

"And?" Lydia raised an eyebrow, growing increasingly impatient with the reporter.

Piper adjusted the press cap on her head and continued. "It's just, that's probably not a situation you'd want to go into alone, you know? Might be helpful to have someone to watch your back? I could come along, if you're interested."

Lydia didn't necessarily _dislike_ the reporter, and while she could admit to herself that it would be helpful to have another gun along, she definitely didn't want Piper around absorbing everything that was said once she did manage to find the detective.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather do this alone, Piper."

The reporter nodded her understanding. Lydia turned to go but Piper caught her arm. "I get it, you don't want me nosing around. But you really shouldn't do this alone," she protested. "There's a rumor going around Goodneighbor that a merc for hire has set up shop down in the bar over there. The Third Rail. Might be worth checking into. If you want to live, you know," Piper shrugged. She turned and made her way back down the ramp towards the building that served as her home and office.

"I'll think about it!" Lydia called after her. The reporter raised her hand in acknowledgement and disappeared into Publick Occurrences.

Lydia turned and continued her path toward the city's exit.

The guard on gate duty eyed her as she approached, his hand hovering over the button that would open the door to the ruins of Boston. "Sure you want to go out there after dark?" he asked.

"Just open the gate, please," Lydia replied.

The guard punched the button and the gate began to rise with a groan. "Your funeral," he muttered.

Lydia ignored him, ducking out under the large gate before it had opened completely.

A few moments later she heard the gears turning, closing her out in the darkness as the gate made its descent.

As Lydia crept through the rubble that was downtown Boston (now known simply as "The Commonwealth") she was grateful for the silence. Well, relative silence, anyway. There were always the random sounds of gunshots that rang out through the broken buildings, sometimes distant, sometimes not. While it may not have been considered "safe" to be out wandering in the dark, there really was no place that was safe. Not anymore.

Lydia had emerged from Vault 111 just a month earlier, into a world where chaos reigned. Every day was a battle. A battle for resources. A battle for food. A battle for survival in general. This new life was hard.

And Lydia loved it.

Growing up, Lydia had always been a withdrawn child. She preferred her own company and a good book. She'd always been fascinated by end-of-the-world thrillers, so waking up from a two-hundred year cryo sleep into the apocalypse was an extreme thrill. In spite of the fact that she was on a mission to find her kidnapped son, she was secretly having a great time.

In addition to the knowledge she'd gained from reading, Lydia's father had been what they'd called a "prepper" and he'd schooled his daughter well. From a young age, Lydia had been taught how to survive in many different situations. In her time that wasn't spent reading, she was on the gun range learning to shoot, in the woods learning to build a shelter, at the river learning to catch and clean fish. Lydia had often thought her father quite paranoid, especially after the multiple times he had run his daughter through training exercises. Making her dress fake wounds over and over until she got it right, making her take apart and clean her guns in record time, making her memorize and recall different plants and what their useful properties were. He'd been relentless. Waking up to the apocalypse, however, had made her increasingly grateful for the rigorous training she'd been forced through.

Lydia was brought back to the present by a low moan coming from her left. She ducked behind a rusted mailbox and un-holstered her pistol. Peering out of her hiding place, her suspicions were confirmed.

Ferals. Great.

Three that she could see, shambling along in an old cemetery across the street from where she hid. Her view of the cemetery was limited though, as a large city bus sat in the middle of the street in front of her. She sat hunched behind the mailbox for a few more minutes, watching for more to emerge. She knew that often there would be a few live ones lying in wait.

Lydia debated throwing a grenade over the top of the bus into the cemetery to try taking them all out at once, but ultimately decided against it. Even if she did manage to take them all out with an explosion, she'd likely end up alerting other unwanted parties to her presence. No, the best bet was to stay low and move quietly, try to sneak by them. Lydia took a deep breath and slowly snuck out from her hiding place. Keeping one eye on the ground in front of her and the other on the roaming ghouls, she crept down the street.

This was the reason that Lydia preferred the darkness for traveling. Darkness provided shadows. While Lydia wasn't necessarily afraid of a fight, and had excellent combat and weapon skills, she preferred to avoid it when she could. Not fighting was the best way to stay alive.

Lydia made it past the ghouls with ease, but realized a few blocks later that she was heading in the opposite direction from the subway station that would take her to where Detective Valentine was being held captive.

 _Fuck_ , she silently cursed, ducking into a boarded-up doorway and bringing up the map on her Pip-boy. She had taken a wrong turn somewhere. She fiddled with the dials and moved the map picture around on the little screen. The coordinates that marked Goodneighbor on the map were only another few blocks from where she was. Remembering Piper's suggestion about the mercenary for hire, Lydia decided that she may as well go check him out while she was so close. Might be good to have another gun with her when she confronted the Triggermen. Or someone to draw the gunfire away from her, at the very least.

Mind made up, Lydia headed down the road that would take her to Goodneighbor.


	2. Saviour Machine

Chapter 2

Saviour Machine

" _Don't let me stay_

 _Don't let me stay_

 _My logic says burn so send me away_

 _Your minds are too green_

 _I despise all I've seen_

 _You can't stake your lives on a Saviour Machine"_

 **Saviour Machine** _ **-David Bowie**_

* * *

Robert Joseph MacCready sat in his usual chair in the back room of The Third Rail. He stared into his empty glass, willing more whiskey to appear. He'd long ago spent the last of the caps that he'd allotted himself for drinks. He briefly contemplated breaking into his savings for another drink.

 _Just one more won't hurt. What's another few caps?_

But he knew he wouldn't. Those caps had a dedicated purpose, which was ultimately more important than getting another fix.

Mac sighed loudly and wondered, not for the first time that night, what the hell he was still doing holed up in that bar. He hadn't had any business in weeks. Day after day, night after night, he'd sat in that bar just waiting for a customer. He knew he was getting nowhere. No new customers would be coming. Out of drinking caps and patience, he decided that he'd head out in the morning. Maybe he'd have better luck out on the road.

Grabbing his bag and rifle and slinging them onto his back, Mac headed out into the night.

* * *

Lydia dove behind an abandoned car and heard the spray of gunfire wash above her head.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Lydia cursed herself. She tossed the 10mm aside. It was damn near useless against the green monstrosities, even with the modifications she'd made to it. She quickly unslung the rifle from her back and turned to aim over the hood of the car. Her first shot went wild as her finger slipped from the trigger. Her fingers were slick with the blood that ran down her shoulder from the gun wound one of the Mutants had inflicted on her.

The Super Mutants continued their smack-talk, calling for her to come out of hiding. Lydia hastily wiped her bloody hand on her pants. Taking a deep breath and willing herself to concentrate, Lydia managed to put a bullet through the nearest one's forehead, sending him falling back onto the pavement. The coast was clear, at least momentarily, and Lydia took that chance to run. The entrance to Goodneighbor was just around the corner. She could make it.

Lydia cursed herself again for not being more careful. After successfully sneaking past the ghouls and a couple groups of raiders, she'd gotten overconfident and slipped up. Coming around a corner, she'd failed to notice the hanging blood bags until it was too late. She stepped directly into the line of sight of one of the large mutated dogs, who proceeded to howl and alert the entire gang to her presence.

The door to Goodneighbor came into view and Lydia could have wept with relief. Almost there.

"Stupid human!" came a roar from behind her. Lydia forced herself to sprint faster, ignoring the sweat and blood running down her face and the sting of the open wound on her shoulder.

At the same moment Lydia reached the entrance to Goodneighbor, she heard the crack of a shotgun and felt the multiple stings of buckshot enter her backside. She tumbled through the door and fell hard on the bricks. She'd been shot, again, and the bastard was almost on her.

* * *

MacCready laid in the bed of his rented room at The Rexford, staring up at the ceiling. He tried counting the cracks in the plaster, hoping to shut his brain off enough to get some rest.

Some nights were worse than others, but Mac generally had a hard time getting to, and staying, asleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Duncan's or Lucy's face in his mind, and the waves of guilt came crashing down. The wife he let die, and the son he couldn't protect from illness.

After laying there long enough to count the cracks (thirty-seven) twice, Mac sighed in frustration and rolled off the dirty mattress.

He paced the small room for a while, guilt and self-hatred swirling through his head. Finally he could stand the four walls of the dilapidated room no longer. Mac grabbed his belongings from the chair in the corner and fled the hotel.

Mac decided that he might as well get an early start on his journey if his brain wouldn't allow him rest. He was almost at the entrance to the city when he heard the unmistakable howl of a mutant hound, followed by a barrage of gunshots.

Mac removed his rifle from his back and flicked the safety off, aiming in the direction of the door to the city. A few drifters that had been mulling nearby readied their weapons as well. The city wall was well-fortified, but it was always better to be prepared.

Mac crouched down behind one of the half walls near the door, getting into a position that would allow him a direct line of sight to anything that may enter.

He heard a mutant yell, and then the door to the city burst open. A shotgun went off at the same moment and the woman who was charging through the door went down hard onto the bricks.

A mutant with a shotgun appeared in the doorway behind the fallen woman, directly in Mac's cross hairs. Mac pulled the trigger of his trusty rifle and dropped the super mutant with a clean shot to the head.

The gunfire ceased. Daisy, the ghoul who ran the general store across the way, ran over to the door and poked the barrel of her handgun through the opening, scanning the area to make sure the threat was neutralized. After a few moments she stepped back and slammed the door shut.

The drifters who had gathered for the fight began to disperse. Mac stood and slung his rifle across his back. The woman who had tumbled through the door after being shot was lying on the ground where she'd fallen. She was unmoving, but as Mac drew closer he could see that she was breathing.

Daisy holstered her pistol and crouched near the woman, looking her over.

"She's alive," Daisy stated in her raspy voice, "but she definitely needs some medical attention."

Mac leaned over the woman. "No sh-kidding," he agreed. Her right shoulder was a gaping mass of blood and tissue. There was a smattering of small holes punched into her ass and left thigh that were beginning to leak blood.

"She's lost a lot of blood," Daisy said. The ghoul looked up at Mac. "Come on, RJ, let's get her to Doctor Amari."

Mac opened his mouth to protest, this lady was not his problem and he had his own issues to deal with. But one stern look from Daisy and he thought he'd do well to keep his mouth shut and do what the old lady said.

Mac and Daisy gently rolled the woman over onto her undamaged shoulder. The woman was pale and her breathing labored. Mac was momentarily taken aback when he saw her face. Even through the sheen of sweat and grime that covered her face, he could tell that she was gorgeous.

Mac slid an arm under her back and another under her knees and lifted her off the ground. He followed Daisy down the street to the Memory Den where Doctor Amari would be.

Daisy threw open the doors of the establishment and called out for the doctor. The place was nearly empty of patrons, which was no surprise. It was going on 5 am and most of the town's drifters would be passed out in the streets or alleys.

"Amari!" Daisy yelled again. "Come on," she motioned MacCready to follow her down a flight of stairs to the basement where Amari's lab was located.

They descended the stairs to the lab. Daisy pulled a gurney away from the wall into the middle of the room. Mac gently laid the woman down on the old hospital bed.

Doctor Amari stormed into the room, alarm on her face. Her eyes went right to the unconscious woman on the gurney. "Oh my," she said. The doctor went right to the sink on the wall and began washing her hands. "What happened?"

"Mutants chased her into the city," MacCready spoke up. "She's been shot, more than once."

Amari examined the woman for a brief moment before she busied herself running around the room, grabbing up various supplies and chems. Mac watched as Amari picked up a pair of surgical scissors and began cutting the woman's shirt away from the wound on her shoulder.

"I'll need help," the doctor said to no one in particular.

Mac turned to tell Daisy that she could be the one to help, it had been her idea to save the lady in the first place, but Daisy was already gone.

Amari snapped her fingers, bringing Mac's attention back to the pressing situation. "Let's go! Over there," she pointed to the side of the gurney opposite from her.

Mac sighed and did as he was told. He spent the next few hours assisting Amari as she doctored up the woman. It took a while to Stim her shoulder back together. Mac watched in fascination as the medicine knit the muscles and skin together before his eyes. He seen it done numerous times, Lucy had been a medic after all, but it always amazed him to see the meds do their work.

At one point when the doctor jabbed a Stimpack into a particularly deep part of the shoulder wound, the lady woke up screaming and swinging. Amari quickly injected her with a sedative to put her back out, but not before she'd managed to clock Mac square in the jaw.

After the shoulder wound was properly cleaned and Stimmed, Amari had Mac roll the woman over on to her good shoulder. "Hold her there, on her side," she ordered.

The doctor cut the leather pants from the woman and went to work removing the buckshot from her ass. Mac tried to avert his attention, but he couldn't help notice how curvy and soft the woman's body was. He mentally chided himself, this was not the time, but he couldn't help himself completely. The lady's clothes had all been removed in order for the doctor to tend to her wounds, and Mac realized (not for the first time) that he hadn't seen a naked woman in quite a while. Although when he'd imagined himself holding a naked woman, this hadn't been the scenario he'd hoped for.

"All done," Amari finally announced. She helped Mac roll the lady gently onto her back, and covered her with a clean sheet.

Mac went over to the couch on the wall of the lab and flopped down. A few hours earlier, he hadn't been able to sleep at all. Now he could hardly keep his eyes open. He settled back into the cushions and pulled his cap down over his eyes.

"...another few hours before she wakes up," Mac heard Amari say before he gave in and let his exhaustion take him.


	3. Who Can I Be Now?

Chapter 3

Who Can I Be Now?

" _Nobody can break their bondage_

 _Everyone can feel their chains_

 _But even in my life I knew you found your sight_

 _And nothing would be quite the same"_

 **Who Can I Be Now?-** _ **David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia opened her eyes to an unfamiliar room. She sat bolt upright and hissed at the sharp pain that radiated from her shoulder. She looked down to see the fresh, pink skin that had recently grown there, and the fight with the Super Mutants came back to her. She remembered throwing open the door to Goodneighbor, and the pain that had come from the buckshot hitting her backside. She ran her hand over her ass and thigh, feeling the puckering of new skin that had grown over the places she'd been hit.

"You're awake," came a strange, accented female voice from behind her. Lydia whirled around to see a woman in a white doctor's coat walking toward her. She also realized that she was sitting on a gurney in the middle of the room, with nothing covering her but a sheet that had fallen into her lap when she'd sat up.

"How are you feeling this afternoon?" the woman asked as Lydia pulled the sheet up to cover her naked breasts.

"Umm...sore," Lydia croaked out. The doctor walked over to a fridge in the corner of the room and produced a can of purified water.

"I'm Doctor Amari," the woman said. She popped the tab and handed Lydia the can of water. Lydia gratefully accepted and took a long swallow. "Daisy and that young man there," Amari pointed a slim finger to the space at Lydia's back, "brought you here early this morning. You were pretty banged up, said you'd been chased in by a mutant?"

Lydia turned to look where Amari pointed behind her to see a young man sprawled out on a couch, lightly snoring, a hat pulled down over his face. "Umm...yeah," she began, "had a little run in with a few of those green bastards."

"I'll say," Amari remarked, looking over the newly grown skin on Lydia's shoulder. The doctor pulled the other woman's arm out, this way and that, testing the muscle contraction and skin elasticity. After a few minutes of working her shoulder over, Amari let out a satisfied hum and nodded to herself. "It's healing nicely," she informed Lydia, "but you still need to take it easy for a few days until it has healed completely."

"Mhm," Lydia replied absently. She knew she couldn't afford to wait another few days before heading back out to find the detective.

"Or don't," Amari huffed, walking away to the counter on the other side of the room. "I'm just a doctor, what do I know?"

Lydia ignored the comment from the other woman and slowly got up from the gurney. Her muscles were sore and stiff but she could stand and walk with no problem.

"Daisy fetched your bag from outside the gate, it's over there," Amari pointed to a wall of lockers near the fridge along the side wall, not looking up from whatever she was working on. "The clothes you came in with were ruined. Hope you have a change in that bag or you'll be walking around Goodneighbor in that sheet."

Lydia silently cursed herself for not carrying a spare outfit with her. She did have the blue suit that she'd been wearing when she'd crawled out of the vault, but Lydia knew she'd rather wear the sheet than parade around in that blue monstrosity and announce her former vault status to the derelicts in Goodneighbor.

Lydia knotted the sheet around herself and made her way to the row of lockers. Her pack was sitting in an open one. She grabbed it out, noticing that the right strap had broken. The pack was stiff with dried blood. Lydia unzipped the big pocket and fished around for her caps purse.

"What do I owe you for the treatment?" Lydia asked, turning to face the doctor.

Doctor Amari turned to face Lydia. "Nothing. Daisy, the shop owner who brought you here, took care of it."

Lydia's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh. O-okay," she stammered, shoving the caps purse back into her bag. Kindness was not something she'd come across in this new world. Not without underlying intent, anyway.

"Where can I find this Daisy?" Lydia asked the doctor, throwing her pack onto her good shoulder by its one remaining strap.

Amari gave Lydia a brief rundown of the small city's layout, where to find the shops, bar, and hotel, while Lydia pulled her boots on.

"Well, thanks, Doc," Lydia said, heading toward the stairs that would take her to the main floor. She spared another glance at the sleeping man on the couch. "And thank him for me, too," she added, nodding to his still form.

Lydia headed outside into the dull afternoon. Storm clouds crackled above the city, threatening rain. Lydia picked up her pace, in a hurry to get to Daisy's shop and hopefully get some new clothes before the rain began. She wasn't thrilled about wandering around town in a sheet in the first place, let alone one that would soon become nearly transparent if she got stuck in the rain.

The first drops of rain came trickling down as Lydia reached the entrance to Daisy's shop.

"Well hell, look who it is!" the ghoul woman rasped as Lydia approached the counter. "You don't look so good, and that's coming from me," Daisy chuckled, "but you're in a hell of a lot better shape than you were when you came into our little city."

Lydia smiled at the ghoul woman. "I hear I have you to thank for that."

"Yes you do. Myself and that cutie RJ."

Lydia held her hand out across the counter to the ghoul woman. "I'm Lydia," she introduced herself.

"Daisy," the woman said, giving Lydia's hand a firm shake.

"I really appreciate what you did," Lydia began, "but I have to ask: why did you cover the costs with the doctor? I suppose you want a favor or something in return."

Daisy waved away the accusation. "What? An old lady can't just do something nice? Out of the kindness of her shriveled, irradiated heart?"

Lydia laughed at that, but responded honestly. "In my experience, no, no they can't."

"Well then, let me be the first. Think of it as a welcome to the 'above' gift," Daisy leaned over the counter and winked one of her black eyes at Lydia. "Not everyone you meet out here is complete scum. Just most of them."

Lydia stepped closer to the counter, lowering her voice. "How did you know I'm from a vault? Is it that obvious?" she asked the older woman.

"Maybe not to everyone," Daisy said, "but you don't really have the look of someone who's had to fight for food all her life. Your skin is clear and healthy-looking and you have curves that are almost non-existent out here in these harsh conditions. Plus, that Pip-boy on your arm there is a dead give-away."

Lydia eyed the portable computer that sat on her left forearm. "Good point," she said.

"So, can I get you something new to wear, sweetie? Or would you prefer to wander around in that sheet? It is rather fetching, if I do say so, however not very practical," Daisy smiled.

"Yes, please," Lydia said.

Daisy turned to a shelf on the wall and gathered a few items of clothing. She placed them down on the counter. "Fifty caps for the outfit, but the bath is free," Daisy said, pointing up the stairs behind her. "Go wash the blood out of that pretty hair."

Lydia dug her caps purse out of her bag and counted out a hundred caps. She slid them across the counter to the other woman, taking the clothes in her arms and heading for the stairs. "Keep the change," she said over her shoulder.

Lydia found Daisy's bathroom and closed the door behind her. Setting her things down on the sink, she caught a glimpse of herself in the cracked mirror. "Damn," she muttered, inspecting a small cut and a large purple bruise that took up one side of her forehead. Her long hair was crusted with blood on the side where her shoulder had bled into it.

Turning the knobs on the tub, Lydia was overjoyed when warm water began to pour from the spout. The only washing up she'd done in the past month since emerging from a two-hundred year cryo sleep in the vault had been in dirty rivers or in the cold rain. She sighed in pleasure as she lowered her aching body into the warm water.

Lydia took her time relaxing in the tub. The water was cold by the time she finished washing and pulled the plug. She stepped out, using the sheet from Amari's to dry herself and wring out her dripping hair. Once she was sufficiently dried, she inspected the clothes that Daisy had sold to her. Faded jeans, a white tank top, and a black leather jacket. Lydia slid the jeans up over her thighs. They were a tight fit, but fairly comfortable and easy to move in despite that. She rummaged in her bag and found her spare bra. It was black and would show through the white tank, but at least she had something to wear.

Lydia used a corner of the sheet to clear the steam from the mirror over the sink. Running a brush through her hair, her mind wandered back to the last time she had been standing in a bathroom, staring into a foggy mirror.

* * *

 _On the morning of October 23, 2077, Lydia stared at herself in the mirror. The bathroom was full of steam from Nate's shower. Her husband was talking to her over the sound of the water spray, giving her a rundown of their schedule for the day. She responded appropriately at the correct pauses as he rambled, but she wasn't paying any attention._

 _Lydia stared at her face in the mirror. Her hair was perfectly pinned up, makeup applied just so. She was the perfect vision of an all-American housewife. Well-respected Military hero husband, domestic house complete with white picket fence, brand new car parked in the car port, shiny new robot butler. Everything a modern woman could want._

 _She hated it._

 _Lydia had never wanted the American dream. She'd always dreamed of traveling, wandering around with no responsibilities, seeing where life took her. Then she'd met Nate and gotten pregnant at the young age of twenty-two. Mind clouded with pregnancy hormones, she'd felt stuck and had reluctantly agreed to marry Nate so that her baby would have a safe place, a good home, and a good father._

 _Nate was a decent guy. He was attentive to Lydia and an excellent father to their son, Shaun. There was nothing really wrong with him, but Lydia had tried, and failed, to love him. He was just...nice. He didn't light any fires in her. She didn't have any strong feelings for him at all. She'd hoped that she would eventually grow to love him. And she was fond of him, she just couldn't muster up any feelings stronger than that fondness. She supposed that was good enough, and was resigned to live out her days as the boring housewife. Because, although she couldn't find the love in her heart for her husband, she could more than fill that space with the love she felt for her baby. Shaun was the reason she got out of bed every morning, and the only reason she felt to continue every day in her otherwise boring life._

 _Nate shut off the shower and stepped out, stepping around Lydia to get in front of the mirror. He kissed her cheek as he gently moved her aside, leaving wet handprints on the sides of her shirt. She smiled weakly up at him and turned to leave the room. As she walked down the hall, she heard him reciting the speech he would give that night at the Veteran's Hall to himself in the mirror._

 _Lydia continued her morning routine. Coffee, breakfast, changing and feeding Shaun. She performed her tasks mechanically. It was the same as every other day._

 _She had just finished feeding Shaun and placed him back into his crib when their robot butler, Codsworth, called out in alarm from the living room. Lydia ran down the hall and came to a halt in the front hall, the television tuned to the local news. The anchor was sweating and distressed as he informed the audience of the bombs that were beginning to fall._

 _Lydia's heart felt cold in her chest. She could hardly process the information. She looked over to see Nate standing next to her, holding baby Shaun in his arms, eyes wide and afraid._

 _The alarms began to wail outside, and the world around them plunged into chaos._


	4. Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)

**Author's Note:**

 **Thanks so much to lareepqg for my first review! And a positive one, at that! You so made my day! Hope everyone likes the new chapter. I'll be pushing them out as fast as I can!**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)**

" _She could've been a killer_

 _If she didn't walk the way she do_

 _And she do_

 _She opened strange doors_

 _That we'd never close again"_

 **Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)-** _ **David Bowie**_

* * *

MacCready woke with a start and tumbled off the couch onto the concrete floor.

"Damn!" he swore, too tired to censor himself. The same nightmare that woke him every day was still fresh in his mind. Lucy. Ferals. Duncan's hitching baby cry. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the memories from his brain.

"Good evening," Doctor Amari spoke from the other side of the room. "I do hope you enjoyed your free lodging. But if you don't mind, I have things to do. You can show yourself out, yes?"

For a split second, Mac looked around in confusion. Where the hell was he? He spotted the empty gurney, now pushed back to its original position against a wall and devoid of an injured woman. The morning came rushing back to him.

"Hey, uh, where-" he began.

"Woke and left a few hours ago," Amari interrupted.

Gathering his things, Mac made a hasty retreat from the Memory Den. The air of desperation in that place always freaked him out. It was worse than a drug den. All those people strung out, needing another fix of good memories to get them through. There were a few drifters that seemed to live in those pods, cheeks hollow, eyes gaunt, staring at older versions of themselves in a past that they'd never get back. It was just plain creepy.

Mac emerged from the Memory Den into a downpour. At least it was just rain and not a radstorm. He made his way through the streets to Daisy's store, slightly curious to find out what had happened to the hurt woman, but mainly to see what she had in stock before he took off.

"Hey there, RJ," Daisy spoke up as he neared the counter.

"Daisy," he nodded in greeting. "Got any .308 caliber? Need to stock up before I head out."

Daisy reached under the counter. She brought out two boxes of the ammo and set it down in front of MacCready. "You finally pick up a client?" she asked as Mac counted out his caps and pushed them over.

"Naw, nothing in weeks," he replied. "That's the problem. I'm gonna head out and see what I can pick up on the road. Have to get some kinda business coming in."

Daisy paused with her hand on the pile of caps. She pushed both the boxes of ammo and the money back across the counter to Mac. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"How about I let you take this ammo, no charge, and you do me a favor. Just wait around town for another few days. If you don't get a new client before Friday, I'll set you up for a journey alone and send you on your way," Daisy smiled slyly.

He squinted at the older woman. "You know something I don't, Daisy?"

Daisy busied herself wiping down the counter. "Me? No, I don't know nothing. How's about you just humor an old lady?" she winked at Mac.

Mac considered for a moment before shoving the caps and ammo into his pack. "Alright I'll bite. But I'll see you Friday for that free stuff you promised."

She chuckled as he turned and walked away from the store. "We'll see about that!" she called to him.

Mac supposed he could humor the lady for a few days, especially since she'd just freed up some caps for him to spend at the bar by giving him the ammo at no cost. He knew he'd be leaving by Friday, though. He hadn't seen any business in weeks. What difference would another few days make?

* * *

Lydia sighed and sat up in the bed. She'd been laying there restlessly in her rented room at The Rexford for the past couple hours since leaving Daisy's.

While Daisy hadn't strictly asked for anything in return for paying for Lydia's medical treatment, she had strongly suggested that Lydia at least go meet the mercenary down in The Third Rail before leaving town. It hadn't been a direct request that she hire him, but it may as well have been. The old ghoul sure knew how to lay on the guilt.

Lydia reached into her coat pocket for her pack of cigarettes before remembering that she was wearing a different coat, her other one had been destroyed. She grabbed her bag off the floor and shook it out onto the stained mattress. A search through her possessions failed to turn up another pack and she groaned in frustration.

She pulled on her boots without bothering to lace them, stuffed her caps purse into her coat pocket, and left her rented room. Locking the door behind her, she figured she'd head down to the bar. She could certainly use a drink, and they were likely to have smokes for sale as well. And maybe she'd check out this mercenary she kept hearing about.

Lydia pushed open the door that would take her down to the old subway station that served as the town's bar. The sounds of glasses clinking, people chatting, and sultry lounge music floated up the stairs.

She was met by a ghoul in a black suit as she neared the top of the stairs. "Entertainment's down the stairs," he grunted to her. "Enjoy your stay."

Lydia nodded to the man and headed down the stairs. Taking a seat at an empty stool, she ordered a rum and Nuka-Cola from the Mister Handy tending the bar. He introduced himself as Whitechapel Charlie.

"You got a pack of smokes I can get, too?" she asked the robot as he set her drink down in front of her.

He reached a mechanical arm under the counter and produced a pack of Grey Tortoise lights, sliding them across the counter to Lydia. "Forty caps for the lot," he said in his Cockney accent.

Lydia counted out forty-five caps. She pushed the forty for the smokes and drink back across the counter and deposited the other five into the tip jar near the register. Charlie tipped his hat in thanks and moved on to serve another patron at the end of the bar.

Lydia sat at the bar and sipped her drink. The cola was flat, but she didn't expect much carbonation from a two-hundred plus year old bottle of soda. But it was cold, at least. The first chilled drink she'd had in the Wasteland. She shook a cigarette out of the pack and lit it, savoring the smoke that filled her lungs.

The lounge singer in the corner finished up her song and the bar broke out in half-hearted applause. She stepped off the stage and took a seat at the bar next to Lydia.

"Hello, stranger," the woman greeted. She held out a perfectly polished hand to Lydia.

Lydia transferred the cigarette to her left hand and reached out to accept the handshake.

"Magnolia," the singer purred.

"Lydia."

The women ended their shake and Magnolia snapped her fingers at Charlie. "Vodka, dear!" she called to the butler before turning her gaze back to Lydia.

"So," Magnolia began, "what vault did you crawl out of?" She gestured to Lydia's Pip-boy.

"Jesus," Lydia swore. "Might as well get 'vaultie' tattooed on my forehead."

Magnolia laughed. "You're pretty. Too fresh-faced to have spent much time above ground."

"Maybe I need to wear a mask," Lydia mused.

"Use what you got, honey. A pretty face can go a long way toward getting what you want." At that moment, Charlie floated over and placed a short glass of vodka down in front of the singer. "What's the damage, Charlie?" she asked, batting her long lashes up at the robot.

"No charge for you, love," Charlie tipped his hat to Magnolia and again floated away down the bar.

Magnolia raised her eyebrows at Lydia in a look that said, 'You see?' and stood up from the barstool.

Lydia turned sideways on the stool and watched as the singer once again took the stage, red dress sparkling under the spotlights. She sat there for a few songs, sipping her drink and enjoying the music.

She'd just finished the last of her drink and signaled to Charlie for another round when two rough looking men descended the stairs into the bar. They marched over and stepped up to the counter.

"Hey!" one of the men spoke up, catching Charlie's attention. He dropped a fistful of caps onto the bar. "You got a merc doing business out of this shit-hole?"

Charlie set Lydia's drink down in front of her before turning to the man. "I don't give out information to apes that insult my establishment," he spat. He pushed the man's pile of caps back across the bar.

Lydia smirked and took a sip of her drink.

"Now listen here, you rusted pile of scrap," the gruff man said angrily, his face turning an ugly shade of red. Before he could finish the threat, he was interrupted by an obviously strung-out junkie who leaned over from the neighboring barstool.

"Hey now," the junkie slurred, "I'll tell ya whatcha wanna know, you slide that pile of caps over my way." He stared at the caps with glazed, bloodshot eyes.

"There's a smart man," the thug roughly patted the junkie on the back and slid the caps his way.

The junkie pointed over his shoulder to a doorway at the rear of the room. "You're lookin' for MacCready. Works outta that room." The junkie turned and pushed his newly acquired pile of caps over the bar to Charlie. "Give me whatever that'll buy," he ordered the bartender.

Charlie glared (if a robot could glare, that's what Lydia would have called the look he shot at the thug) at the man. "Start any fights in my bar and you won't be walking out of here," Charlie warned.

"Don't get your circuits in a twist, we just wanna chat. C'mon, Barnes," he motioned the other man to follow and headed for the back room.

Lydia took another sip of her drink, then got up off the stool to follow the thugs. One of her objectives in coming to the bar was to check out the mercenary, and she was curious to see what the assholes wanted with him. She crept up to the doorway and quietly slipped into the room.

"Can't say I'm surprised to find you in a dump like this, MacCready," the man who'd spoken at the bar said.

Leaning up against a wall, Lydia made sure to stay out of sight. She quietly sipped her drink and listened to the men's conversation.


	5. Dancing With the Big Boys

**Author's Note:**

 **Some dialogue is taken directly from game and does not belong to me.**

* * *

Chapter 5

Dancing with the Big Boys

" _Something's going on in society_

 _You chew your fingers and stare at the floor_

 _One wrong word and you're out of sync_

 _Talk about a hands-on policy"_

 **Dancing with the Big Boys** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

 _Fuck!_ MacCready swore to himself. He'd made a promise not to swear in an attempt to be a better person for Duncan's sake, and he mostly managed to censor himself. Out loud, anyway. He still allowed himself his internal profanity, however. Especially when he looked up to see those two piece of shit Gunners, Winlock and Barnes, walking into the back room of The Third Rail, headed straight for him.

The pair sauntered up to Mac and stopped a few feet away. Barnes stood a step behind Winlock, as if Mac didn't already know which one of the two was the leader. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he sat back in his chair and lit a cigarette.

"Can't say I'm surprised to find you in a dump like this, MacCready," Winlock sneered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was wondering how long it would take your bloodhounds to track me down, Winlock. It's been almost three months. Don't tell me you're getting rusty." Mac took a long drag of his cigarette. "Should we take this outside?" he asked, blowing smoke out through his nose.

Winlock shifted his stance. "It ain't like that. I'm just here to deliver a message."

Mac sat forward, leaning his forearms on his thighs. "In case you forgot, I left the Gunners for good."

"Yeah, I heard. But you're still taking jobs in the Commonwealth," Winlock said. He took a step toward Mac. "That ain't gonna work for us."

Mac stood, now at direct eye-level with Winlock. "I don't take orders from you. Not anymore." He took another drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke into Winlock's face. "Why don't you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can."

"What?!" Barnes raged, taking a large step forward. Winlock put out an arm to keep the larger man from advancing. "Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this shit!"

Winlock leveled glowering eyes at his partner. Barnes let out an exasperated grunt, but took a step back.

"Listen, MacCready," Winlock said, "the only reason we haven't filled your body full of bullets is that we don't want a war with Goodneighbor. See, we respect other people's boundaries. We know how to play the game. It's something you never learned."

Mac scoffed. "Glad to have disappointed you."

"Play the tough guy all you want, Mac," Winlock continued. "If we hear you're still operating inside Gunner territory, all bets are off." He took another step, bringing himself and MacCready nearly nose to nose. "You got that?"

"You finished?" Mac sneered. He wasn't stupid enough to not take the threat seriously, but he wouldn't let the asshole intimidate him.

"Yeah, we're finished. Come on, Barnes," Winlock turned to leave, his partner on his heels.

MacCready turned and grabbed his glass of whiskey from the table, downing the remainder in one large gulp.

 _Fuck!_ he cursed again. He was pissed at himself for ever getting involved with those assholes. He was pissed at Daisy for making him stick around. If he'd left that evening like he'd planned, he would've been able to give Winlock and Barnes the slip. Maybe get a line on another job somewhere else. It wasn't like he could leave the Commonwealth, not before he got Duncan's cure.

"Fuck!" Mac cursed aloud this time. He threw his empty glass across the room where it shattered on the wall.

* * *

Lydia stood against the wall in the back room, listening intently to the men's heated conversation. But when the leader of the thugs said they were finished, she hastily retreated. She took up a spot on a couch outside the door, leaning back casually as the men appeared in the doorway.

Lydia watched the men exit the room. The leader, who she now knew was called "Winlock", paused near her, giving her a very obvious once over.

"Hey there, pretty lady," he leered, smiling to reveal a mouthful of decaying teeth.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Keep walking," she said to him.

"Fuck you too, bitch," he spat. He and his partner went past and made their way to the stairs.

Lydia waited for the men to disappear around the stair landing before she stood and walked over to enter the back room again.

"Fuck!" she heard as she stepped through the doorway, followed by the crash of breaking glass. She rounded the corner to see a man hunched over in an arm chair, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Is this a bad time?" she asked. She stuck out a hip and propped her hand on it, waiting for his response.

The mercenary's head shot up at the sound of her voice. He looked momentarily startled but recovered quickly. "Look lady," he began, standing up from the chair. He ran a hand through his brown hair and placed a military-looking cap onto his head. "If you're here preaching about Atom, or-" he paused, recognition blossoming on his features. "Wait, you're the injured woman from earlier, right?"

Lydia hadn't seen his face when she'd left the doctor's place earlier, but she recognized the hat, and realized that this was the man who had helped save her life. "I suppose I owe you a debt of gratitude?" she asked sarcastically.

MacCready opened his mouth to tell her that she didn't owe him anything, but then he had a better thought. "Well," he ventured, "you could hire me. I'm a hell of a shot. And judging by your grand entrance last night, you could probably stand to have me watching your back."

Lydia puckered her lips in thought. "Maybe," she said after a moment. "Why don't you tell me about tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb first," she hooked a thumb toward the door the goons had exited through.

MacCready waved a hand and scoffed. He once again took a seat in his chair. "Those guys are nothing to worry about," he lied, "just a couple morons looking to climb the ladder of success by stepping on everyone else on the way up."

"So I take it you're not running with the Gunners anymore, then?" Lydia questioned.

"Naw," MacCready replied. "They're crazy. So tightly wound you'd think they were a cult or something," he chuckled. He removed a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his duster and lit one. "I stuck with 'em for a while cause the money was good, but I never fit in. So I made a clean break and started flying solo." Mac took a drag of the cigarette and blew smoke toward the ceiling.

 _Didn't exactly sound like that was a_ clean _break to me_ , Lydia thought, but kept her mouth shut. She lit a cigarette of her own.

"So what about you?" Mac went on. "How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?"

Lydia shrugged and hit her cigarette. "Guess you don't." She breathed out the smoke. "That's part of the risk, right?"

Mac smiled. "Can't argue with that. Tell you what. The price is two-hundred-fifty caps, up front. And that's non-negotiable."

Lydia smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Everything's negotiable."

Mac stood and took a few steps forward. "Yeah well, I already saved your life once, lady. You owe me. So the price is two-fifty. We have a deal?" he held out his hand, waiting for Lydia to accept.

Lydia stared at his hand for a moment before letting out a sigh of resignation. "Deal," she agreed, accepting the shake.

Mac smiled brightly and shook her hand. Lydia pulled away and reached into her jacket pocket for her caps purse. She counted out his caps ten at a time, handing him over the handfuls as she went. When she'd handed over the last bit, she caught his eye.

"I've paid you, so now we're even."

"Sure thing, lady," Mac smiled, tucking the rest of the caps into his bag. "I'm MacCready, by the way. We never were formally introduced."

"Lydia," she said. "But now that I'm your employer, you can call me 'Boss'."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Sure thing, _Boss_."

Lydia rolled her eyes and turned to leave, motioning Mac to follow. She hated to admit it to herself, but she already kind of liked the smart-ass merc.


	6. Boss of Me

**Chapter 6**

 **Boss of Me**

" _Who'd have ever thought it_

 _Who'd have ever dreamed_

 _That a small-town girl like you_

 _Would be the boss of me?"_

 **Boss of Me** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

MacCready followed his new employer up the stairs that led out of The Third Rail, figuring this new gig might not be so bad. _At least it comes with a good view_ , he thought, watching the way the boss's ass moved in her tight jeans. He remembered back to the night before, when he'd been watching Amari remove the buckshot from Lydia's naked backside, how smooth and otherwise flawless the skin had been. He felt a twitch between his legs as he wondered how that soft skin would feel under his calloused fingers if he were to grab a handful.

The twitch began to grow into something more substantial and Mac shook his head to clear his thoughts. He reached down and readjusted himself quickly as the boss neared the top of the stairs. _Christ, you've been employed all of two minutes. Calm the fuck down,_ he scolded himself.

Mac followed Lydia down the street and into The Rexford.

"We need to get some rest so we can be on the road as soon as possible," Lydia said over her shoulder, climbing the stairs to the hotel rooms. "I'm not sure how time-sensitive this rescue is and I've already wasted damn near two days with this injury." She rolled her still-healing shoulder.

"Who are we rescuing and from what?" Mac inquired.

"Nick Valentine. He's a detective from Diamond City. My info says he's being held down in Park Street Station. Some gangsters have him or something."

"Alright. Probably those Triggermen, huh?"

"That's what I heard."

Lydia stopped near a door and fished a key out of her pocket. She unlocked the handle and stepped into the room, Mac on her heels.

"Well goodnight-" she started to close the door, but stopped, confusion on her face when she realized that MacCready had moved into the middle of the room. He pulled the string on the one lightbulb that hung suspended from the ceiling, washing the room in dull, yellow light. "Uh...you should probably go to your own room now," she said gesturing out into the hall.

"I would, but it seems that my room has been rented out," Mac held his arms out at his sides, indicating the room around them.

"Well damn," Lydia sighed.

Mac knew that they wouldn't have any other rooms available. He'd been living in that one on and off for the past few months and the same few people had occupied the other rooms the entire time.

"I'll take the couch, Boss," MacCready said, sliding his rifle and pack off his shoulders. He set his things onto the dresser and flopped down onto the beat-up sofa, sending up a plume of dust.

Lydia closed the door. "Great," she muttered.

Mac smirked as he made himself comfortable on the couch, pulling his hat down over his eyes. Free, safe place to sleep. Decent view. Pocket full of caps. Yeah, this job wouldn't be so bad at all.

* * *

Lydia lay curled up on her left side on the hotel bed. Her right shoulder was still sore, but it was feeling better all the time. She felt exhausted in spite of all the hours she'd spent passed out during the day down in the doctor's basement. Even with how tired she felt, she still had yet to come close to sleep.

She looked over to the couch where the merc lay, hat pulled down over his face. He'd been still ever since she'd switched off the light hours ago. She assumed he was asleep. _Must be nice_ , she thought.

Lydia reached over to the Pip-boy she'd removed from her arm before bed and turned a dial. The green display lit up, showing the time to be nearing three a.m. She groaned and rolled over onto her back. Although the overhead light was off, the room was nowhere near dark. The glare from the street lights of Goodneighbor streamed in through the boarded-up window. Lydia busied herself counting the cracks in the plaster ceiling.

Her counting was interrupted when the merc suddenly spoke up from across the room. "You still awake, too, then?" he asked.

Lydia jumped slightly, startled by MacCready's voice in the quiet room. He'd been so still for so long that she'd been positive he was sleeping. "Now I lost count," she grumbled.

Mac chuckled. "It's thirty-seven."

"Thirty-seven what?"

"Cracks in the ceiling," he mused. "I've spent many sleepless nights in this same room."

Lydia couldn't help but laugh. "So that trick didn't work for you either?"

"Nope."

"I'll just count the stains, then."

"Fourteen on the ceiling," Mac informed, "three on the door wall, six on the dresser wall, nine on the bed wall, and twelve on the window wall," he finished. Lydia sat up on an elbow to look at him. He still hadn't moved from his spot on the couch, slumped down and hat over his eyes.

"Gee, thanks for the spoilers," Lydia quipped.

Mac let out a short laugh and then grew quiet again.

Lydia flopped back down onto her back. After a while, she finally managed to fall into a light sleep.

* * *

MacCready awoke to early morning light breaking through the slats of the boarded-up window. He yawned, sat up and affixed his cap back into place on his head. The boss lay on her side on the bed, curled up and faced away from him, her breathing deep and even.

He reached over and grabbed his backpack off the dresser. Pulling out a few sticks of radstag jerky, he ate them slowly while he waited for his morning tent to go down. He'd wake the boss afterward.

Just as Mac was finishing his last bite of jerky, and his tent pole had finally deflated, the boss began stirring on the bed. She sat up slowly and stretched, rolling her previously injured shoulder back and forth.

Mac swallowed his mouthful of jerky. He took a smoke out of the pack in his pocket and lit up. "Morning," he said to the boss.

"Uh-huh," Lydia groaned. She stood slowly and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. Mac watched as her tank top rode up to reveal a sliver of her flat, white stomach. "I don't suppose there's a chance of grabbing a cup of coffee around here?" she asked around a yawn.

MacCready snorted, blowing smoke out through his nose. "Yeah, right. That's a rare luxury around here. Probably couldn't afford it even if you could find it."

Lydia sat back down heavily on the edge of the bed and put her head into her hands, her curtain of dark hair falling over her face. "That's what I thought. God, I miss coffee."

"They have a good supply of it where you're from?" Mac questioned.

Sitting up straight, Lydia smoothed her hair back from her face with both hands and nodded her head. "Yeah, they really did," she replied.

Mac shrugged. He finished his cigarette as he watched Lydia move around the room, gathering her things and preparing to leave.

"I have to stop by Daisy's, then we can head out," she said, slipping the Pip-boy back onto her wrist. She opened the door and stepped out of the room.

"Lead the way, Boss," MacCready stood, grabbing his things and falling into step behind his employer.

It was still fairly early in the morning. Most of the drifters that usually lingered in Goodneighbor were still passed out along the city's streets. Mac followed his boss through town to Daisy's Discounts. The old ghoul smiled widely at MacCready when she caught sight of the pair approaching.

"Well, well...have you finally found yourself some employment, dear?" she asked Mac. She folded her arms over her chest, the smug grin on her face stretched nearly ear-to-ear.

"Sure did. Daisy, this is Lydia," he motioned to his employer standing at his side.

"We've met," Lydia spoke up.

Mac raised an eyebrow at Daisy, fitting the puzzle pieces together. Giving him free ammo, asking him to stick around for a bit longer. She must have known, or at least strongly suspected, that Lydia would be in the market for a hired gun, and that he'd have work very soon. The ghoul winked at him and shrugged. "What can I do for you, sweetie?" she asked, turning her gaze to Lydia.

* * *

Lydia unslung the broken pack off her shoulder and set it down on Daisy's counter. "This thing has seen better days," she said, gesturing to the broken strap, bloodstains, and bullet holes that adorned the canvas bag. "Do you have anything else?"

"I should." Daisy turned and went to a cabinet on the back wall of her shop. She rummaged around a bit before she found what she was looking for. She came back to the counter and plopped down a faded, brown leather bag in front of Lydia. "It's a tad smaller than your old one there, but it's all I got," she said.

"That's alright," Lydia smiled, "I got myself a pack mule now." She leaned over and clapped Mac on the shoulder, which elicited a loud cackle from Daisy.

Mac took a step back and glared at Lydia. "You got another thing coming if you think I'm carrying all your sh-stuff," he said.

"Watch your tone-" Daisy began to scold him, but Lydia held up a hand to cut her off. She stared right back into Mac's blue eyes.

"I believe that I hired you to do a job," she said coldly. "Do you not have a pocket-full of my caps? While I'm your employer, you'll do what I ask. If you don't like it, I'll take my caps back right now and we can head our separate ways."

The two held their stare for a moment longer. Finally Mac rolled his eyes and took a step back, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Alright, alright. Point taken," he relented. "I'll be over there," he pointed to a nearby bench. "Let me know when you're ready to head out, _Boss_."

Lydia let him go. She bit her tongue on the urge to tell him what a good boy he was for obeying, figuring that sort of comment would likely cause him to quit on the spot.

After a few minutes of bartering with Daisy for supplies and transferring her things over to her new pack, Lydia went over and sat down on the bench next to Mac.

Lydia held out a slice of razorgrain bread to her hired gun as a peace offering. Mac took the last drag of his cigarette, crushed the butt under his foot, and took the food. He paused with the bread raised halfway to his mouth.

"Is this for me, or am I just carrying it for _you_?" he asked. He turned to face Lydia and raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.

The fluttering she felt deep down at the sight of that smirk was just butterflies about the upcoming mission, Lydia told herself.

"Ha ha," she said. "Just eat the damn bread and let's get the hell out of here."

After a quick snack of bread and mutfruit, the pair stood to leave. As they walked away from Goodneighbor, Lydia brought her focus back to the mission ahead, trying hard to put the image of the mercenary's smirk to the back of her mind.


	7. Bang Bang

**Chapter 7**

 **Bang Bang**

" _Bang bang I got mine_

 _Bang bang and you're next in line_

 _Bang bang reach for the sky_

 _Bang bang sun don't shine"_

 **Bang Bang** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia stepped into the covered entrance of Park Street Station, MacCready bringing up the rear a few paces behind. They had reached the subway station fairly quickly and had only one minor incident with a small contingent of Raiders, who they'd managed to take out before even being spotted.

"This is it," Lydia nodded toward the stairs, holstering her pistol on her thigh. Lydia pulled the bag from her back and kneeled down to the ground. She dug out a can of purified water, took a few swallows, and passed it over to Mac.

"What's the plan?" He accepted the can downed the rest of the water. He tossed the empty can aside, where it clattered across the pavement.

Lydia pulled a suppressor from her bag and screwed it onto the end of her pistol. "You got a silencer for that thing?" she asked Mac, gesturing to the rifle he held over his arm.

"Of course," he replied. He unsnapped a pouch on the side of his belt and pulled out his own suppressor, fixing it to the end of his rifle.

"Okay," Lydia began, "we go in low and quiet, try to stay unseen. I want to take as many of them out as we can without being detected. That's my usual style." Lydia ejected the magazine on her gun to see how many rounds she had left as MacCready reloaded his rifle.

"Good," Mac nodded his approval, "that's how I'd do it, too."

After double checking all their weapons and making sure they were ready for a fight, Lydia led them down to the double doors. She cracked open one just barely enough to slip through, and felt Mac slip in behind her. Once inside, the pair snuck down the long-stilled escalator steps. There was a doorway at the bottom that led into the first room of the station. Lydia took up a space on one side and motioned Mac to take the position on the other.

"I'm tellin' ya," they heard a man speaking beyond the doorway, "joining Skinny Malone's crew was the best decision we've ever made. Look at this place!"

Lydia peered around the doorway and spotted the speaker talking to another man over a barrel fire. She held up two fingers to Mac, who nodded his acknowledgment. The pair pointed their guns around the corner and aimed, firing simultaneously.

Mac got off a clean shot to the back of the first man's head, while Lydia's hit home a little lower than she'd intended. A geyser of blood shot from the man's neck. He fell to his knees, grabbing at his throat. He gurgled and spat blood as he tried to call out. The cry was feeble, however, and no one came to his rescue. After another few seconds, he finally fell face forward onto the tile into a rapidly growing pool of blood.

Lydia leaned further into the room. Seeing nobody, she kept low and moved left into the room, crouching down behind a tiled column. Mac followed, moving to the right and taking up a place behind a different column. Footsteps echoed from down a hallway in the right rear of the room. Another man came into view and stopped short when he saw his fallen companions.

"What the-" he began, but Mac raised his rifle and shot the gangster between the eyes before the other man even had a chance to reach for his weapon.

Moving quietly into the room, Lydia made her way toward the hallway on the right. Being careful to step around the pools of blood, she went through the dead men's pockets while Mac pointed his rifle down the opposite end of the hallway.

Lydia finished looting the three dead gangsters. They moved down the hallway, which ended at two bathrooms. A quick search of the rooms turned up a couple Stimpacks and a bag of Rad-Away, which Lydia stuffed into her pack.

Back down the hallway in the other direction were the turnstiles, indicating that was the direction which would lead down further into the station. As soon as Lydia passed through a turnstile, another of the gangsters came around the bend ahead.

"Hey!" he shouted, seeing Lydia crouched in front of him. He raised his submachine gun, pointing it right at Lydia. But she was ready, her pistol raised level with his chest. She pulled the trigger three times in quick succession. He fell backward, gun clattering to the ground beside him.

Lydia froze where she was, worried that the last man's yell would bring more people running. She waited there a couple minutes, listening intently for any sounds that would indicate the presence of another party.

"I think we're okay," Mac whispered into her ear. "Let's keep moving."

Lydia let out a breath she hadn't realized she been holding. She nodded and moved forward, skirting around the dead man.

* * *

MacCready followed Lydia down a couple sets of stairs, moving further into the station.

He was pleasantly surprised with Lydia's competence. She seemed to have a decent handle on how to use her weapon, and didn't rush thoughtlessly into a battle zone.

Just then, as they rounded another bend in the staircase, Mac reached out and grabbed Lydia's shoulder, pulling her back before she moved down onto the next step. She turned around, one eyebrow raised in question.

Mac pointed with his rifle, first to the makeshift bomb duct taped to the wall, then to the trip wire near her feet that she'd almost stepped through.

Understanding dawned on Lydia's face and her skin paled. Mac held out his rifle for her to take, then put up a finger in a gesture that said 'wait'. He leaned over the tripwire and expertly deactivated it, removing the strip of wire and setting it aside.

Taking his rifle back, he glanced at Lydia and she nodded with approval. He moved back into position behind her. "Impressed yet?" he whispered into her ear.

Lydia turned to look at him and rolled her eyes dramatically. Mac smirked at that, and could swear he saw the beginnings of a blush creeping onto her face before she turned away from him and continued carefully down the stairs.

When the two reached the bottom of the stairs they looked out into the large, open cavern of the station. Mac counted at least six Triggermen, located at various places throughout the area, and those were just the ones he could see from this vantage point.

"Damn," Lydia whispered. She glanced at Mac, cold determination showing in her hazel eyes. "Here we go," she breathed, raising her pistol and aiming for the closest man. Mac followed suit, choosing a different gangster and taking aim.

The next few minutes were a blur. As soon as Mac and Lydia dropped the first two men, the others all went on high alert and the bullets started flying. The two darted around the room, ducking behind pillars, benches, and trashcans as they took out the remaining Triggermen.

When the gunfire finally died down, Mac was crouched behind a fallen Nuka-Cola vending machine. He took the chance to reload his rifle. He waited a few beats more before coming out from behind his barricade. He surveyed the area, but saw no sign of Lydia.

"Boss!" he called out quietly.

"Over here," she poked her head out from around a doorway. Mac stood up, knees stiff from crouching so long, and went over to join her.

MacCready caught up with Lydia in a room that had likely once been a first-aid station of some sort. As he entered, she was busy looting through cupboards and drawers, stuffing things into her bag. He left her to it, keeping watch from the doorway.

He watched as she threw a few chems and meds into the pack, but interrupted when he saw her stuff in three surgical trays. "Come on leave it! It's just junk!" he urged.

Lydia glared over at him. "All of these things can be re-purposed," she insisted. "You have no imagination."

"I have plenty of imagination," Mac countered, as Lydia bent over in front of him to retrieve a tin of Mentats from the floor. He felt that familiar twitch below his belt, and his mind momentarily went to another place as he imagined her bent over like that in front of him in a different context.

As she stood and pocketed the tin, Mac forced his mind to return to reality.

They continued on into the gang's lair, sneaking down a stretch of train tracks that led into another open area. It looked to have been under construction when the war had come to a climax. Mac followed Lydia over broken ground and torn-up tracks. In the far left corner of the room, they came upon two more gangsters, who they easily disposed of.

Mac looked around while Lydia looted the bodies. "They must have been building that vault all the way up to the last second," he remarked.

When Lydia saw the large, yellow door sat into the wall, her face fell. She sighed, and made her way up to the scaffolding leading to the door marked "114". As Mac reached the landing and came up next to her, she unclipped the vault key from her Pip-boy and plugged it into the control panel.

"Ready to go in there?" she asked. She looked up at Mac, hand hovering over the red button that would open the door.

"You lead, I'll follow," Mac replied, adjusting his grip on his rifle.

Lydia hesitated a second longer, then punched the button.


	8. Look Back in Anger

**Chapter 8**

 **Look Back in Anger**

" _Look back in anger_

 _Driven by the night_

 _Till you come_

 _Look back in anger_

 _See it in my eyes_

 _Till you come"_

 **Look Back in Anger** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

 _Lydia tumbled from the cryo pod and landed hard on the floor. Shivering violently, she forced herself to stand. She scrubbed her fists over her eyes in an effort to clear her blurry vision._

 _Across the aisle stood the pod that held her now dead husband. Lydia went to the pod, staring through the window at Nate's still features. She stood there, looking in at his familiar face, waiting to feel intense emotion over his murder. She stared at the bullet hole in his chest, blood frozen around the gaping hole. A slight sorrowful feeling did emerge, however it was simply a faint blip in the back of Lydia's mind. Different, stronger emotions battled for the main place in the forefront of her brain._

 _The first was relief. Relief so overwhelming it almost made her weep. She was no longer the good little housewife who she'd hated._

 _Then came guilt, however. Lydia had never loved Nate but she'd liked him. She felt awful that her initial thought was to be relieved that she was free from the boring, suffocating life of domesticity._

 _Finally though, the rage began to well up in her. It was a fiery, living thing that engulfed all lesser emotions, using them as fuel for the pyre. The anger wasn't over Nate's death, however. No, the red that filled her vision was all for the ones who had kidnapped her son._

 _Lydia held onto that rage as she ran through the vault, past pod after pod of lifeless bodies. People that she'd known, before._

 _The fire grew in her chest as she read through files on the various terminals. She went through every individual occupant file, all of them reading the same:_

Occupant Status: Deceased. Cause of death: Asphyxiation due to life support failure.

 _Not only had those bastards taken her son, but in doing so they'd killed dozens of people by opening Nate's pod and screwing up the life support systems._

So why the hell am _I_ still alive? _Lydia wondered._

 _By now, the fiery rage had engulfed Lydia's entire body. It powered her through the vault, forcing her to focus on her survival training. She found an old canvas bag and grabbed everything that could possibly be useful when she got to the surface. She had no idea how much time had passed while she'd been a forced popsicle, and no idea what kind of conditions she'd be walking out into._

 _After taking out some giant cockroaches, Lydia made it to the vault entrance. She went to the door controls, stepping over skeletons. Another giant roach emerged from the rib-cage of one of the long-dead scientists and hissed it's way toward Lydia. She leveled her newly acquired 10mm to it and pulled the trigger, the shot echoing loudly in the chamber around her. The bug twitched as she walked by. She brought her foot down hard onto its shelled head for good measure._

 _On the ground near the control panel, Lydia spotted a Pip-boy on the bony arm of a skeleton in a white lab coat. She reached down and grabbed the personal computer._

" _Thanks," she muttered absently to the dead person. She shook the bones out of the wrist cuff and affixed the Pip-boy to her own arm._

 _After using the key extension of the Pip-boy on the control panel, Lydia threw back the transparent cover and punched the button that would open the vault door. She made her way to the elevator. Eager to leave the metal tomb, she didn't bother to look back as she rose to the surface and left Vault 111 behind._

* * *

The grind of gears and metal resounded through the cavern as the door to Vault 114 rotated and moved aside, granting the mercenary and his employer access.

MacCready watched in confusion as the boss raised her pistol and marched onto the platform into the vault. Footsteps echoing loudly on the metal floor, her quiet, precise demeanor of before was gone.

Nearly running to catch up, Mac didn't get the chance to ask her what the hell she was doing. The surprised shouts of gangsters entered the room, followed by a spray of bullets from their automatic rifles.

Diving behind a metal crate for cover, Mac was sure that the boss had gotten herself killed. As he leaned around the crate to line up a shot, the spray of bullets ceased. He looked over to see Lydia disappear around a corner, the bodies of two gangsters lying dead on the floor.

Mac scrambled to his feet and chased after his employer, the heat of anger rising to his face.

He slung his rifle over his shoulder as he moved. He caught up with her in the next room. Grabbing her arm, he yanked Lydia back and turned her around to face him.

"Hey! What the hell was that?!" he demanded.

Lydia glared at the merc. He was momentarily taken aback by the intense hatred that shone in her eyes. "Let go of me," she said, her voice cold with barely contained rage.

She looked so deadly in that moment that Mac nearly obliged, but his own anger fueled him on. "You almost got yourself killed!" he yelled into her face.

"I'm fine!" she yelled back, trying to wrench her arm free of Mac's grasp.

Mac reached out and grabbed her other arm. Lydia struggled harder to free herself. "Did you even feel that?!" he asked, indicating a fresh gash on her bicep. Blood trickled from the open wound.

Lydia softened at the sight of the wound. She stopped fighting to free herself, glancing down at the cut.

"You can't let your emotions take you over like that," Mac said, no longer shouting. "You'll get yourself, and maybe me, killed."

The two stared at each other for a moment. The intensity in her eyes had changed into something other than rage, and Mac wondered briefly if she'd try to kiss him.

An image of Lucy's face flashed through his vision then, momentarily superimposing itself over Lydia. He saw Lucy's soft, clear blue eyes looking out at him.

Mac squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. When he opened them he was back in reality, looking into the confused, hazel eyes of his employer.

Finally releasing her, Mac took a step back. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I have my own sh-stuff to take care of. I can't afford to die before I do," he finished his lecture and settled his cap back onto his head.

"You're right," Lydia sighed, holstering pistol. She scrubbed her hands over her face and smoothed back her hair. "Neither can I," she added quietly.

After a moment of silence, Mac motioned her to follow him. "Let's take care of that arm," he said, turning back toward the previous room.

Mac pushed some old boxes off a table and Lydia took a seat on it. She pulled off her pack, fishing out medical supplies that she'd gathered earlier. She removed her Pip-boy and shrugged her arm out of the jacket.

Lydia removed the top from a flask and took a sip before pouring clear liquid over the cut, hissing through her teeth as the alcohol sterilized the wound.

"Let me," Mac said, stepping up and grabbing a Stimpack from the table.

"No, save that," she said, nodding to the Stimpack. "It's not that deep."

Mac replaced the Stim and picked up a roll of gauze instead. He wrapped it around her arm a few times. Lydia handed him a pair of surgical scissors. He cut the gauze and tied it off, handing the remainder of the roll back to her.

Lydia packed up her things. She slid her arm back into the coat and locked the Pip-boy back into place.

"You want me to take point?" Mac asked, readying his rifle.

Lydia removed her pistol from its holster. "No, I'm good now," she said as she slid in a fresh clip. "Thanks."

"Sure," Mac waved a hand dismissively.

Turning to look into his eyes, Lydia reached out and put a hand on the merc's shoulder. "Really," she said lowly, "thank you. For pulling me away from the edge."

Mac nodded, averting his eyes to the ground for a moment. When he looked back up at her, his trademark smirk had taken its place on his lips. "Don't go getting all sentimental on me now, Boss," he quipped.

Lydia smiled and rolled her eyes. "You're such an ass," she said, giving him a playful shove backward with the hand she'd placed on his shoulder.

He chuckled and lightly pushed her forward. "Come on," he said, "let's go kick some doors down. Time's wasting."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hi, all! I hope you're enjoying my story so far. I'm having a lot of fun writing it!  
**


	9. Bombers

**Chapter 9**

 **Bombers**

" _All clear wail the sirens_

 _Sunshine on the wasteland_

 _Old man sitting in the white sand_

 _Think we're in for a big surprise_

 _Right between the eyes"_

 **Bombers** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia and MacCready moved slowly through the vault, falling back into the stealthy rhythm they'd first established. Lydia was pleased with how well the pair's fighting styles complimented each other, and admitted to herself that she'd made a good decision in hiring the merc.

They moved through the maze of hallways like a well-oiled machine, taking most of their opponents out before being seen or heard.

Finally opening a door into the main chamber of the vault, Lydia spied a man on the far side of the room. He had his back to them and was talking to someone she couldn't see. They were too far away to hear what was being said. Mac raised his rifle and took aim at the man, but Lydia put a hand out to stop him. She shook her head at him and mouthed the words, 'not yet'. Mac shrugged and lowered his weapon.

Lydia quietly crept forward with Mac on her heels, making sure to keep an eye on the man in case he turned in their direction. The room was well lit, and there were not a lot of places to hide between the entrance and the stairs that would take them to the landing where the gangster waited.

As she reached the stairs and began her ascent, Lydia could finally hear the conversation between the gangster and the other person.

"...'cheating card shark' I think were his exact words," the voice belonging to the hidden man said. "Then he struck the name across. Three times."

Both Mac and Lydia crept closer, the gangster now in a direct line of sight. "Three strikes? In the black book?" the man's voice trembled slightly. "But I never...oh no...I-I gotta smooth this over fast!" He turned to head in Lydia and Mac's direction and spotted the pair. "Who the-" he began, reaching for his gun.

Quickly aiming her pistol, Lydia shot the man in his shoulder. He cried out and stumbled backward, dropping his weapon. Mac finished the job with a shot to the gangster's forehead and the man went down with a loud thud.

"Hey, you!" the hidden man called.

Lydia stood from her crouch and moved forward slowly, pistol ready. Coming to a halt near the dead man's feet, Lydia looked up to see a circular window set into a wall. The face of a mechanical man stared back at her through the glass.

"I don't know who you are, but we got about three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains ain't coming back. Get this door open," he ordered.

"Nick Valentine?" Lydia asked through the window.

The man blinked his yellow eyes at her. "In the flesh, so to speak," he replied. "You gotta hack that terminal to open this door," he said, pointing to Lydia's right.

"Great," Lydia muttered. She turned and looked at Mac. "You any good with those things?" she asked, motioning to the terminal.

"Not even a little bit," he said, shaking his head.

Lydia sighed and went over to the computer. After a few failed attempts and temporary lockouts, and with a little verbal coaching from the detective, she managed to hack the terminal and open the door.

"Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario," Valentine said as Lydia entered the room. "Now that you know who I am, why don't you tell me who you are? And what you're doing down in this vault rescuing an old private eye?"

"I'm Lydia, and that's MacCready," she said, pointing behind her. "I'm looking for a missing person. It's...complicated though. I have no leads, and no idea exactly how long they've even been gone."

The detective raised a mechanical eyebrow at Lydia. "Well, I've done more with less. Somehow 'nice and simple' never makes it onto the menu in my line of work." Nick moved past Lydia. "Come on," he said over his shoulder, "let's blow this joint, then we'll talk."

Lydia and Mac shared a glance before following the detective through the door and back down the stairs.

"I've been cooped up in here for weeks," Nick said as they walked. "Turns out that Darla, the runaway daughter I came here to find, wasn't kidnapped. She's Skinny Malone's new flame, and she's got a mean streak."

Nick led the pair through a different door than the one they'd used to enter the main room. It took them around a corner and down another set of stairs. "Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys will be waiting for us, somewhere." He went on. "The name's uh... _ironic_...but don't let that fool you. He's dangerous."

Lydia and Mac continued following Nick as he led the way to the exit, running into another few handfuls of Triggermen along the way. Between the three of them, they cleared the threats fairly easily and came away relatively unscathed.

They came upon a locked door, which the detective set about picking. Lydia and Mac took the opportunity to reload their guns.

"Got it," Nick said after a few minutes, standing and drawing his .44. "I hear big, fat footsteps on the other side. Once we step through this door, get ready for anything."

Lydia glanced over to MacCready, then turned back to Nick and nodded. "Ready," she said.

Nick flipped a switch and the door slid open with a hiss.

The room beyond was dark, but as soon as the three stepped through the door, the lights flickered on and the door slid shut behind them.

Lydia and Mac immediately raised their guns, but Nick kept his down at his side, taking a leisurely step forward. On the other side of the small room, a large man stood before them. He wore a black suit and fedora, a submachine gun held in his meaty hands. A skinny woman (Lydia assumed that was Darla) stood to his left, a baseball bat resting on her shoulder. Two other gangsters stood behind them, guns pointed at the detective and his group.

"Nicky," the large man spoke up, "what're you doin'? You come into my house. Shoot up my guys. You have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?"

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your two-timing dame, Skinny," Nick said. "You should tell her to write home more often."

"Aww, poor little Valentine," Darla said. "Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? I'll just run back home to Daddy, shall I?"

Her voice was high-pitched and whiny. Lydia grimaced and had to refrain from reaching up to cover her ears.

"Should've left it alone, Nicky," Malone said. "This ain't the old neighborhood. In this vault, I'm king of the castle, you hear me? I ain't lettin' some private dick shut us down now that I finally got a good thing goin'!"

"I told you we should've just killed him," Darla screeched. "But you had to go gettin' sentimental with all that stupid crap about the 'old times'!"

"Darla I'm handling this! Skinny Malone's always got things under control!"

"Oh yeah? Then who're they?" she countered, pointing her bat toward Lydia and Mac. "Valentine must have brought them here to rub us all out!"

"That wasn't the original plan, but it _is_ pretty tempting," Lydia said, moving so her gun was aimed at Darla. "Nick, let's wrap this up and let's get the fuck out of here," she said to the detective.

Valentine held up the hand that wasn't holding his gun. "Come on, Skinny. Use some sense and let us walk out of here. You owe me for that two weeks in the hole."

"Don't tell me how to run my affairs, Nicky," Malone scoffed. "I've had enough of this. Time for the hard goodbye."

* * *

Mac stood back and let the people have their chat, keeping that asshole Malone in his crosshairs the entire time. As soon as the mob boss got out the word "goodbye", Mac squeezed the trigger of his rifle and shot the bastard straight through the eye.

The room erupted into chaos as Skinny Malone went down. Darla let out an obnoxious, screeching war cry and charged toward Lydia, bat raised over her head, while the two bodyguards who had been lurking behind Malone opened fire.

Stepping to his right, Mac ducked behind a row of metal shelves. Lydia followed behind him. At the same time Darla rushed into view, Mac heard a door open at his back. He whirled around to see a pair of gangsters. One held a machine gun, the other a crowbar.

Mac fired on the one with the gun and the man went down. Before he could cock his rifle for a second shot, the other was bringing his crowbar down toward Mac's head. He held up his rifle to block the swing, then smashed the butt of his gun against the gangster's face, sending the man sprawling backwards onto the floor. Mac cocked his rifle. As the gangster moved to stand again, Mac shot him in the head.

He quickly turned around in time to see Lydia get off a shot at a man crouched behind a crate on the other side of the room. Darla lay dead on the floor beside Lydia, two round holes growing crimson stains on the front of her dress.

Dropping down into a crouch again, Mac moved around the metal shelving. He raised his rifle at the last remaining Triggerman, but Valentine shot first. The man went down in a spray of blood before Mac even had a chance to aim.

Silence fell over the room. Mac's ears rang from the sudden absence of gunshots.

"That's all, folks," Valentine broke the silence. He stepped out into the center of the room. "You both alive?" the detective asked the room.

"I'm good," Lydia spoke up from where she squatted over a dead gangster, rummaging through the man's pockets.

Mac came out from his hiding spot. "All present and accounted for, sir," he said, touching the brim of his hat in a mock salute.

The mechanical detective ignored MacCready, turning his back on him and addressing Lydia. "Whenever you're ready, that access ladder there will take us straight to the surface," he said, pointing to a ladder on the wall.

Lydia had moved on to another body, pocketing unspent ammo and stray caps as she went. "Just a sec."

Ten minutes later, Mac was following the detective and his boss up the ladder to the surface.

"...know where to find me, anyway?" Valentine was asking Lydia as Mac pulled himself up onto the street into near darkness.

Night had fallen while they'd been underground, and the air had a bite to it. Mac shoved his hands into his duster pockets to keep them warm.

"Your assistant told me I'd find you there," Lydia replied, face green in the light emanating from her Pip-boy.

"I figured as much. Guess it's time to give Ellie a raise," Valentine mused. "Well, let's head back to the city. Once we get to my office we can chat about your missing person."

"Give us a minute, Nick?" Lydia asked, gesturing to Mac.

"Sure, just let me know when you're ready to head out," Valentine said. He moved down the street a ways.

When the detective was out of earshot, Lydia wandered over to stand in front of the merc. "So," she began, "this is technically the end of what I hired you for…"

"Alright," Mac nodded, somewhat surprised at the disappointment he felt. She'd never told him exactly how long she'd need him for, but a part of him had hoped that she'd want him to stick around, at least for a little longer.

"However," she went on, "I have a feeling that this is just the beginning of the dangerous shit I'll be getting myself into. I think we worked together pretty well, and I'm sure it couldn't hurt to have someone around watching my back. How would you feel about continuing our arrangement for a while?"

Already having decided to take her up on the offer, Mac rubbed his chin, pretending to think it over. "Well," he said finally, "it beats drinking myself to death down in that bar."

Lydia smiled, a wide smile that lit up her whole face. "Great," she beamed.

Mac ignored the flutter that blossomed in his chest at the sight of that smile. He returned her look with a raise of his brow and his signature smirk.

"Now, let's talk price," he said, as the pair made their way down the street to the waiting detective.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Keep an eye out, there will be more chapters posted in the next few days! Thank you for reading!**


	10. When I Live My Dream

**Author's Note:**

 **Here's the next one! My goal is to post at least a chapter a day but I know it won't always work out like that. Gotta do that work and family thing occasionally.**

 **Thank you to everyone who's read my story so far, I truly hope you are enjoying it! And another big thank you to lareepqg for the wonderful reviews! You continue to make my day with your kind words!**

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

 **When I Live My Dream**

" _And the empty man you left behind_

 _It's a broken heart that dreams_

 _It's a broken heart you left me_

 _Only love can live in my dream_

 _I'll wish_

 _And the thunder clouds will vanish"_

 **When I Live My Dream** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

"It's pretty late, sure you don't want to do this in the morning?" Nick asked. He stopped with his hand on the door to his office, turning around to face Lydia.

"No," she replied. "I'm ready now."

Nick turned the handle and opened the door. "Ellie, are you here?" he called out as he entered the office.

"Nick?" Ellie's voice came from further into the building.

Lydia turned to face Mac, preventing him from entering the detective's office.

"Why don't you head over to The Dugout and get us a couple rooms?" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of caps. "I'll catch up with you when I'm done here," she said, handing the caps out to him.

MacCready raised an eyebrow. Lydia expected him to say something about her not allowing him entry to the detective's. For a split second she could have sworn she saw anger in his blue eyes, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared and Lydia wondered if she'd imagined it.

After a brief pause, Mac reached out his hand and took the offered caps. "See ya later then," he said, turning away and sauntering off towards the inn.

Lydia stood, watching him until he disappeared around a corner. She felt a little guilty about not letting him stick around for her chat with Nick. She liked the merc well enough so far. He was good under pressure, and one hell of a shot, but she wasn't one hundred percent sure she could trust him yet. The conversation she'd overheard between Mac and the Gunners still bothered her. She just wasn't ready to have him know so many details (especially things that could possibly be used against her) about her unique situation.

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out through her nose, Lydia went into the detective's office and closed the door behind her.

* * *

Mac sulked down the street toward The Dugout. He was irritated that the boss had sent him away while she went to have her chat with Valentine. And then he was pissed with himself for being upset by the brush off in the first place.

Rationally, Mac knew that he was just an employee. Lydia didn't have to tell him him anything besides where to point his gun and who to shoot. He'd never asked questions with any of his other clients. He did his job, got paid, and got out. Simple, cut and dry transactions.

And it wasn't like he'd told _her_ anything personal, either.

Then why did it bother him so much?

 _Time for a drink_ , he told himself as he entered the inn.

* * *

"Have a seat," Nick said to Lydia, motioning to the chair across the desk from himself.

Lydia sat. Valentine pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one and then offered the open pack to Lydia. She accepted and lit one of her own.

"When you're trying to find someone," Nick said, "the devil is in the details. I know this is painful, but I need you to tell me everything you can remember."

Lydia inhaled deeply from her cigarette. Blowing the smoke up toward the ceiling, she began to recount the events of her son's kidnapping.

* * *

 _Lydia regained consciousness, choking on freezing air, and forced her eyes open. Her vision was gray and hazy. She tried to bring her hands up to her face so she could rub her eyes, but her arms felt weighted down. It was like moving through molasses._

 _She managed to blink a few times and clear her vision some._

 _Hearing muffled footsteps approach, Lydia squinted and looked out through the frosted window of her pod. A person dressed in a full-body hazmat outfit appeared and stopped across the hall._

" _This one, right here," the woman said, pointing to Nate's pod._

 _Lydia assumed this meant that whatever contamination they'd needed was finished. She didn't know for sure how long she'd been closed up in that pod, but she'd always been slightly claustrophobic and could feel the beginnings of panic setting in. She was relieved that she'd be released soon, and curious to find out why the pod was so freezing cold._

 _A man came up beside the woman in the hazmat suit. He was dressed in leather and held a large handgun._

What the hell? _Lydia wondered._

" _Open it," the man ordered the covered woman. He stood aside while the woman pulled the lever that would open Nate's pod. The airlocks hissed and the door slowly opened upward._

 _Nate stood in the pod holding Shaun. He coughed, clearing the cold air from his lungs. "Is it over?" he asked. Lydia could hear the shiver in his voice. "Are we safe?"_

" _Almost," the man said reassuringly. "Everything is going to be fine."_

 _The woman stepped up to Nate, holding out her arms. "Come here, little one," she said in a soothing voice and reached for Shaun._

 _Alarm bells rang through Lydia's head. "Hey!" she tried to scream at the woman but all that came out was a weak croak._

" _No, I've got him!" Nate said forcefully, pulling the baby out of the woman's reach._

 _The man in leather raised his gun to Nate. "Let go of the boy. I'm only gonna tell you once," he said coldly._

 _The woman grabbed hold of Shaun, but Nate held him back. "I'm not giving you Shaun!" he shouted._

 _A loud gunshot echoed through the vault and Lydia watched with wide eyes as Nate slumped back against his pod, red forming rapidly at the hole in his chest._

 _The woman cradled Shaun in her arms. He let out a loud, piercing wail. Lydia's heart broke at the sound of her baby in such distress._

" _Goddamnit!" the man swore. "Get the kid out of here and let's go."_

 _Finally able to move her arms, Lydia reached up and pounded her fists against the window. The pod didn't open from the inside, though, and she could only watch as the woman walked away and out of her vision, Shaun's cries echoing down the hall._

 _The man came over to stand in front of Lydia, peering at her through the window. "At least we still have the backup," he said._

 _Lydia burned the image of the man into her brain. Bald head, unshaven face, prominent scar over his left eye._

" _I'll kill you," she promised him, staring into his cold eyes. The man snickered and walked away._

" _Cryogenic sequence reinitialized," a computerized voice said as a white fog hissed into the chamber. Lydia tried to fight the fatigue that settled over her, but her eyes closed against her will and darkness moved in._

* * *

"MacCready!" Vadim Bobrov greeted Mac as he neared the bar. Coming out from his post behind the bar, Vadim met Mac with a hearty handshake. "How the hell are you, tovarisch?" he asked in his thick Russian accent.

Mac ended the handshake and shrugged. "Still kicking," he replied.

"Yes, yes. You look good, my friend," Vadim said. "How is Lucy? Still as beautiful as I remember?"

Mac looked down at his feet. "Uh...no. She didn't make it." Mac muttered.

Vadim frowned. "I'm sorry, friend. Mouth tends to be faster than brain."

"It's alright. Been a couple years now."

The Russian man made his way back around the bar. "Tell you what," he said, "I give you drink, on the house. For old times."

"Thanks, Vadim," Mac said, taking a seat at the bar. "You always were a stand-up guy. Let's drink."

Vadim poured two glasses of his infamous Bobrov's Best Moonshine and passed one over to Mac. "To Lucy," he said, raising his glass.

"To Lucy," Mac agreed, raising his own glass. He downed the contents and coughed slightly at the bitter drink. Pushing the empty glass back across the bar, he motioned Vadim to pour him another.

* * *

Lydia made her way through the city streets, rubbing her arms in an attempt to ward off the chill of the late November air. After she'd told Nick everything she could remember about Shaun's kidnapping, he'd sent her off to get some rest. He'd assured her that he'd do some research, and that she should return in a couple days so they could go over his findings.

Between the day's rescue mission and reliving Shaun's kidnapping, Lydia was both physically and emotionally drained. The thought of falling into a bed carried her down the streets of Diamond City and through the door of The Dugout Inn.


	11. We Are the Dead

**Author's Note:**

 **Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this chapter, I had a really fun time writing it. We get a fair amount of dialogue (and some bonding) between Lydia and Mac!**

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

 **We Are the Dead**

" _Something kind of hit me today_

 _I looked at you and wondered_

 _If you saw things my way"_

 **We Are the Dead** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

After stopping to chat with one of the Russian men who owned the inn, Lydia was pointed in the direction of the room Mac had rented. There had only been one available, so they'd have to share again.

Lydia pushed open the door to room number two. Mac sat sprawled out on the end of the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and a bottle in his hand. He didn't look up as she walked in, his gaze far away. He tilted the bottle to his lips and took a swig.

"Guess we're stuck in the same room again," Lydia said by way of a greeting.

Mac glanced over to her, then turned his attention to the liquor. Lydia unloaded her bag onto the floor near the bed and took a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

"So where are the caps I gave you for the second room?"

Giving Lydia a toothy grin, Mac held up the bottle in his hand. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot and she wondered how much he'd had to drink.

Lydia reached over and plucked the bottle from his fingers. He made a half-hearted attempt to grab it back but she was too quick for him in his drunken state. She looked down at the crude label on the bottle that read "Bobrov's Best Moonshine" before lifting the bottle to her lips and taking a drink of her own.

"Ugh," she shuddered as the liquid warmth slid down her throat. "This is their 'best'? What is this shit, battery acid?"

Mac chuckled and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "Does the trick."

"I see that," Lydia remarked and took another drink. She eyed the merc, who now sat with his hands folded over his middle, once again staring at nothing. "Ground control to Major Tom," she said, snapping her fingers near his ear.

He blinked and focused his eyes on her face. His gaze was intense, and she began to grow uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "How old are you, anyway?" he asked.

She laughed and shook her head. Such a simple question with such a loaded answer. She had been twenty-three when they'd gone into the vault, and frozen for two-hundred-ten years. "Two-hundred-thirty-three," Lydia answered honestly. She took another swig of the bitter moonshine.

Mac scoffed. "Fine don't tell me," he said. He reached over and took the bottle back. "I'm twenty-two."

Lydia raised her eyebrows in surprise. She'd had him pegged in his mid-to-late twenties, maybe twenty-five at the youngest. He noticed the shock on her face and smirked. Lydia's insides warmed at the sight of it.

 _It's just the moonshine_ , she assured herself.

"Surprised?" he asked.

"A little," she admitted. "Had you figured for older."

"Yeah well, I didn't grow up in a cushy vault. It's a harsh living out here in the Wasteland. I've seen things…done things that…" he trailed off, leaving the thought hanging.

Lydia didn't bother asking him how he knew she'd come from a vault. She'd gotten that answer from a few different people already. And she wasn't surprised that he'd figured it out, anyway. He was very perceptive.

The silenced stretched between them for a while as they passed the bottle back and forth.

"I'm twenty-three," Lydia said finally. The moonshine had loosened her up and she decided to give Mac the simple answer. For now, at least. She tilted back the bottle and finished off the last sip.

Deciding that it was time to get some sleep, Lydia set the empty bottle down on the coffee table and stood. She made her way to the light switch and flipped it off before falling into bed.

A few minutes later she heard a rustling from Mac's direction, then a flicker of light momentarily illuminated his face as he lit a cigarette.

It was quiet in the room for another few minutes as Lydia listened to Mac inhale and exhale smoke.

"My name isn't Tom, by the way," he suddenly spoke up, referencing her comment from earlier.

Lydia burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?" Mac asked, which caused her to laugh harder.

Her sides ached and she wiped tears from her eyes as her laughter finally died out. "It's from a song," she explained. "You know, 'Space Oddity' by David Bowie?"

"Never heard of him," Mac said.

"Oh that's so sad. You're really missing out."

Mac didn't reply, just continued smoking his cigarette.

"You never actually _told_ me your first name," she said into the darkness.

"You never told me your _last_ ," he countered.

"True," Lydia agreed.

"It's Robert," he said after a moment. "Robert Joseph MacCready."

Lydia opened her mouth to tell him her last name but paused. She had almost given him her married name. But Nate was dead now, and she'd always preferred her maiden name, anyway. "It's Monroe," she told him.

"Like Monroe Sporting Goods," he said.

Lydia's heart froze in her chest. "What did you say?" she asked, staring into the darkness in Mac's direction.

"Monroe Sporting Goods," he repeated. "In Lexington, over near the Corvega plant? I cleared some raiders out of there a while back. You know the place?"

Not only did Lydia know the store, but she'd worked there nearly her whole life. Monroe Sporting Goods had been belonged to her father.

"Yeah, I know it," was all she said.

There was no more taking after that, and eventually the pair fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning was relatively uneventful. Mac spent his time following Lydia around the market square as she bartered with various merchants, unloading the things she'd collected from their trip to Park Street Station.

"Have you ever had this guy's noodles?" Mac asked as they passed the noodle stand.

"No," Lydia shook her head. "Are they any good?"

"Amazing!" he exclaimed. "Come on, my treat."

Lydia shrugged. "I could eat," she said and followed him up to the stand.

"So are you gonna tell me how it went with the detective last night?" Mac asked as they ate.

Lydia swallowed the bite she'd been chewing before she answered. "He said he's going to do some research and that it might be a couple days before he knows anything."

They finished breakfast and Lydia led Mac over to Valentine's office, where she asked him to wait outside while she went in to check up on the detective.

Mac leaned against a wall in the alley and lit a cigarette, telling himself that he wasn't bothered by once again being excluded. He'd only taken a few puffs when Lydia came back out. He raised his eyebrows in question.

"Ellie said he's out following a lead," Lydia informed him. She shrugged. "He did say it would be at least a couple days. I'm just anxious for answers."

Lydia lit her own cigarette and leaned against the wall opposite Mac. His thoughts were a battleground as he fought with himself. Should he ask her about the person she was looking for? After a few moments, he'd made the decision to keep his mouth shut. She'd tell him when she wanted to.

Apparently his mouth didn't get the message.

"Who are you looking for, anyway?" he blurted out.

Lydia took a long drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke through her nose. "My son," she said quietly. She didn't offer any other information and Mac didn't ask.

 _Shit_ , Mac thought. He opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to find the right thing to say. "Oh," was all he could get out.

The pair stood in awkward silence while they both finished their cigarettes. Lydia finally broke the quiet. "Well, as long as we're stuck in town waiting for Nick, I need to sew up the hole in this jacket," she gestured to the spot where she'd been grazed by one of the Triggermen's bullets the day before. "Also I really should pick up some other clothes, just in case. Did I tell you I had to leave Amari's the other day wearing nothing but a sheet?"

"No you didn't," Mac laughed, wishing (for more than one reason) that he could have seen it. She pushed off the wall, making her way back toward the market square. Mac fell into step beside her.

"I'm just glad I made it to Daisy's before it started raining," she continued. "I would've really given those drifters something to see then."

Mac felt that twitch between his legs again at the thought of her in nothing but a wet sheet.

"You know, Boss," he said, trying to distract himself from the mental images, "I think I'm gonna need a raise if you're wanting me to follow you around while you shop."

Lydia laughed and bumped him with her shoulder. "You don't have to follow me around. Go back to the inn and get a drink or something."

Mac shrugged but didn't respond. He didn't mind following her around, and actually enjoyed her company. He hadn't smiled so much in a long time. It was nice.

Stepping up to the armour workbench outside of Diamond City Surplus, Lydia removed her pack. She handed it to Mac to hold, then shrugged out of her leather jacket. Mac tried not to notice the way he could see the black of her bra through her white tank.

"Want me to fix up that rag for you while I'm at it?" Lydia asked, pointing to his old duster.

"Heck no! It's got character," he said in defense of his coat.

Lydia laughed. "Yeah well, if it gets any more 'character' it's going to fall apart."

"Ha ha," Mac said, watching as she went to work mending her coat.

"Actually," Lydia spoke up over the motor of the sewing machine, "there is something you can do for me while we're in the city."

"Besides standing here and looking pretty?" Mac quipped.

"Yes, besides that," Lydia laughed. "Seriously though, keep an eye out for that reporter. She keeps hounding me for an interview."

"What do you want me to do if I see her? Shoot her?" he asked sarcastically.

"Tempting," Lydia replied, "but no. Just let me know so I have time to hide."

Lydia finished her sewing job and drug Mac around the market for a while longer. Finally, they headed back toward the inn. As they rounded a corner, Mac stepped in front of her. "Piper incoming," he whispered over his shoulder.

"Shit," Lydia whispered back, ducking down beside a trash can. Mac stood in front to block her.

"Is she gone?" Lydia asked after a minute.

"No, just stay there," Mac said, lighting a cigarette.

After another minute, Lydia whispered loudly, "It smells really awful back here."

Mac's shoulders began to shake as he laughed quietly.

"Are you laughing at me?" His laugh grew louder. "She's not even there is she?" Lydia asked flatly.

Mac stepped away and turned to face her, now laughing out loud. "No, I just wondered how long I could get you to hide by that garbage can."

Lydia stood, taking a step toward Mac and shoving him off balance. "You're such an ass!" she yelled, but there was a smile on her face.

"That's true," he agreed, twisting his lips into his smirk. "But seriously, she is coming now," he pointed behind her.

Lydia stuck out her hip and rested her hand on it. "Ha ha. Think I'm stupid enough to fall for that twice in a row?"

"Hey, Blue!" Piper called from behind her.

Lydia's mouth fell open and Mac burst into peals of laughter. She shot daggers at him with her eyes as Piper stepped up beside them.

"I'll catch up with you later, then," Mac said to Lydia. He turned and headed toward the inn, laughing as he went.

* * *

Lydia entered the Dugout and immediately spotted Mac sitting on a barstool. She marched over and took the seat next to him. "I should dock your pay for that," she mumbled.

Mac laughed and gave Lydia a mischievous smile. He raised a bottle of Gwinnet Ale to his lips, but Lydia snatched it away. She lifted the bottle to her own mouth and downed the remainder.

"Are you gonna keep doing that?" he asked.

"Are you gonna keep pissing me off?" she countered.

"Probably," he smirked.

Lydia shook her head and smiled. Again, she felt a flutter down low at the sight of that smirk.


	12. I've Been Waiting for You

**Chapter 12**

 **I've Been Waiting for You**

" _I've been waiting for you_

 _And you've been coming to me_

 _For such a long time now_

 _For such a long time now_

 _A woman with a feeling_

 _Of losing once or twice_

 _Who knows how it could be_

 _Be tomorrow"_

 **I've Been Waiting for You -** _ **David Bowie**_

* * *

Both having had a little too much to drink, Lydia and Mac had fallen asleep early that night, and were up a little early the next morning as a result.

The pair had just finished breakfast at the bar when Nick Valentine came rushing through the door to the inn. "Lydia," the detective began, coming up beside her and speaking quietly into her ear, "I found the man who took Shaun. There are some things we need to discuss, though."

Lydia's heart froze in her chest. "Come on," she said, getting up from the barstool. "Be right back," she told Mac. She motioned Nick to follow her to her rented room, closing the door behind them.

"Your description of the bald man sounded familiar, so I did some asking around," Nick said, getting right to it. "Turns out he's a pretty dangerous merc for hire. Name is 'Kellogg'. He purchased a house here in the city not too long ago. He…he had a kid with him."

Lydia's heart pounded so hard she was sure it would rip a hole right through her chest. "Shaun," she said quietly.

"Well, here's where it gets…strange. You said Shaun was an infant, right? About ten months old?"

"Yes."

"The kid Kellogg had with him was older. Around ten _years_ old," Valentine said carefully.

"That can't be Shaun then," Lydia hung her head. A feeling of despair washed over her and tears sprung to her eyes. "He'd be-" she stopped short as a thought occurred to her.

She'd been in cryo-sleep for over two-hundred years and that had felt like nothing more than a long nap. How could she possibly know how much longer she'd been out after Shaun had been taken? Was it possible that it hadn't been days or weeks, but ten years? She knew the answer and with the realization came a fresh flood of emotions.

"Oh my god," she muttered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "That could be Shaun."

Nick nodded in agreement .

Lydia allowed herself a few more moments to feel sad before wiping the tears from her face. She steeled herself and focused on that place in her chest where her rage had lain dormant, allowing it to surface.

"You said you'd found this Kellogg. Where is he?" she demanded.

"I tracked him to an old military fort a few hours from here. Fort Hagen."

"Let's go," Lydia said, turning and exiting the room.

* * *

Mac jumped at the sound of a door banging open and turned to see Lydia storm out of their room. If looks could kill, Mac knew he'd be a dead man. He hoped to never have that anger directed at him.

"We're leaving," she said as she neared him, not bothering to stop as she went by and made her way out of the inn, Valentine close behind.

Scrambling to his feet, Mac threw a few caps down onto the bar to cover their breakfast. He grabbed his things and rushed to catch up.

"Where are we going, Boss?" Mac asked as they left Diamond City and headed west.

"Fort Hagen," the detective informed him.

"Nick found the man who kidnapped my son," Lydia added.

 _Oh. Shit,_ Mac thought, but kept his mouth shut and followed.

They walked at a quick pace for a couple hours. Mac grew increasingly nervous the closer the group got to Mass Pike Interchange, the base of the Gunners he'd run with, but breathed a sigh of relief when Valentine veered them north-west.

It was mid-morning when the trio reached the Fort. The front entrance was hidden behind a barricade and they were forced to seek an alternate way in. They crept around to the back, taking out a couple machine-gun turrets along the way. After a short search through a parking garage, Lydia whistled to get Mac and Valentine's attention. She motioned them to follow her down a flight of stairs, and through a door into the basement of the fort.

Lydia led them through the fort, the three taking out synths and turrets as they went. She instructed Mac to grab anything useful that could be salvaged from the fallen synths and the surrounding rooms. Normally, he'd have made a snarky comment about picking up and carrying scrap, but the look on her face deterred him.

As they crept down a concrete hall, a voice rang out through the building, startling them all.

"If it isn't my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler," a gruff male voice crackled over the building's intercom.

 _What the fuck?_ Mac wondered. He watched Lydia straighten out of her sneak stance as she turned to face her companions. The look he'd seen on her face earlier that day made the one she wore now look like a smile in comparison. She was downright scary.

Lydia turned back and stalked down the hall, no longer bothering with her stealth approach. The man knew they were there.

She moved through the halls, easily taking out the synths that stepped into her path.

"Hmph. Never expected you to come knocking on my door. Gave you fifty-fifty odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky," the man spoke again.

Lydia was a whirlwind force, mowing through everything that moved. Mac was incredibly impressed. And also really turned on, he admitted to himself.

"Sorry your house has been a wreck for two-hundred years, but I don't need a roommate. Leave," the man spoke again, which only seemed to push Lydia on harder.

 _Her house? Two-hundred years? What the fuck is this lunatic even talking about?_ Mac thought.

As they pushed open a heavy double door, the man continued to taunt her. "Look, you're pissed off. I get it. I do. But whatever you hope to accomplish here? It's not going to go your way."

A red laser flew past Lydia's head and she turned to take out the synth that had shot at her. While she had her back turned, another one came around the corner, headed straight for her. Mac aimed and shot it before it had a chance to get close.

"You've got guts and determination, and that's admirable. But you are in over your head in ways you can't possibly comprehend," the man's voice droned on in the background as they fought the synths.

"It's not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that."

Lydia pushed a door open into a room that looked to be more well-kept than the others they'd passed through. Among the faded pre-war furniture sat white, pristine cabinets and tables. A shiny hospital-looking bed sat along one wall. Mac couldn't remember ever having seen anything so clean in his whole life. It was all weirdly out-of-place in the crumbling military base.

Lydia stalked across the room to the metal door on the opposite wall. She let out a cry of frustration as she found the door barred.

"Okay, you made it," the man spoke again. "I'm just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let's talk."

A series of clicks sounded out in the room, followed by the grind of metal on metal. The door swung open. Lydia turned and caught Mac's eyes. For just a split second, he saw a look of absolute terror cross her face, and Mac had the sudden urge to run to her and take her in his arms. But then she blinked and the hard mask returned.

Lydia stepped through the door and disappeared around a corner, Mac and Valentine close behind as she entered the monster's lair.

* * *

"And there she is. The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth," Kellogg greeted, stepping out from behind a row of terminals. His hands were raised at his sides in a gesture that was meant to be non-threatening. However the large handgun he held, even if it wasn't pointed at her, destroyed the illusion.

Lydia immediately raised her gun and pointed it at his head. From behind her she heard Nick and MacCready do the same.

"Come on, we're just chatting. For now. How about lowering your weapons?" he said, but it wasn't a request. A small army of synths came out of the shadows behind him, laser rifles trained their way.

Lydia reluctantly lowered her pistol, motioning for her companions to do the same.

"Where's my son?" she demanded, voice low and threatening.

"Right to it then, huh?" he mused. Lydia had to refrain from shooting him on the spot, his smug attitude fueling her already boiling rage. "Shaun's a great kid. A little older than you may have expected, but I'm guessing you figured that out by now. But if you're hoping for a happy reunion, it ain't gonna happen. Your boy's not here."

"Tell me where he is."

Kellogg shrugged. "Fine, I guess you've earned that much. Shaun's in a good place. Where he's safe, comfortable, and loved. A place he calls home. The Institute."

Shaking with rage, Lydia brought up her pistol, once again pointing it at Kellogg's head. "Take me to him."

"Take you to him?" Kellogg laughed. "Like I could, even if I wanted to. Don't you get it? Your son, he's in a place nobody can reach."

"That's bullshit!" Lydia snapped. "Tell me how to get there!"

"Haven't you been paying attention? You don't find the Institute. The Institute finds you."

"If that's all you're going to tell me, then I think we're done here," Lydia said coldly, sighting down her barrel at him.

"You're right. I think we both know how this has to end," Kellogg said. "You ready?"

Lydia fired a shot at Kellogg's head a split second before he disappeared, and the synths opened fire.

"Where the fuck did he go?!" she yelled, ducking down behind a desk.

"He's using a stealth-boy!" Mac called back over the sounds of laserfire. He popped up from behind a row of terminals and took out two approaching synths simultaneously. "It only lasts thirty seconds!"

Nick crouched down beside her, taking cover at the desk. "It's not perfect technology, you'll be able to see a shimmer when he moves," he told her before leaning around the desk to fire.

Staying low, Lydia crept out from behind the desk and made her way through a maze of terminals, her eyes sweeping the room for any sign of Kellogg. She saw a shimmer of movement ahead right before a terminal at her back exploded, sending shards of glass flying.

While she ducked to avoid the glass, another shot rang out. Pain erupted from her calf where the bullet had met its mark.

Lydia took a deep breath, ignoring the pain shooting through her leg, and aimed for the spot she'd seen the shimmer. A surprised grunt resulted, and drops of blood appeared on the ground. She fired again three times in quick succession, but the shots went through the metal control panel behind where Kellogg had just been.

Lydia took a chance and stood up, keeping her weight on her good leg, and peeked out over the sea of terminals. She caught movement in the corner of the room and saw Kellogg's bald head blink into existence for a moment before he popped another stealth-boy.

"Frag him!" Mac yelled.

Lydia reached into the pouch on her belt and grabbed a grenade. She pulled the pin and threw it in the direction she'd seen Kellogg, then ducked down and covered her head.

The explosion rocked the small room, then all was quiet. Her ears ringing from the blast, she didn't hear the footsteps approaching.

"Lydia!" she heard Mac call out before something hard slammed into her, bringing her backward onto the cement floor. Her head knocked hard against the ground and her vision swam before her eyes.

She could feel Kellogg's weight on top of her but couldn't see him, his stealth-boy still active. Her eyes focused on a shimmer of movement before pain erupted across her jaw as Kellogg punched her. Lydia saw stars. Blackness danced around the edges of her vision, but she forced herself to stay awake.

Kellogg appeared again as his stealth-boy ran down, his fist raised for another blow. A shot sounded out in the room and Kellogg fell onto Lydia, knocking the remaining breath from her lungs.

Lydia pushed Kellogg away, rolling him over onto his back as she struggled out from under his weight. He was still alive, though just barely. A wet, gurgling sound came from his lungs as he struggled to breathe past the hole MacCready's bullet had made.

Mac came up beside Lydia, rifle aimed down at Kellogg. "No!" she said firmly, and he paused to look her in the eyes. Mac nodded and stepped back. This was her fight to finish.

Lydia kneeled over Kellogg as he coughed and spat blood.

"In another life," he wheezed, "you probably could've been a good mother." He coughed again and blood poured from the side of his mouth. "But here...in this terrible reality? You just don't get that chance."

Lydia reached over and grabbed Kellogg's large handgun (she could now see it was a heavily-modified .44) from the floor where it had fallen. She flipped open the cylinder to make sure there were still rounds in it, then swung it closed. She pressed the barrel to his temple. "You remember what I told you down in that vault?" she asked, voice low and cold. She pulled back the hammer of the revolver.

Kellogg let out a strained laugh that turned into more coughing. "I've been dead for years, you're just finishing the job."

Lydia pulled the trigger.


	13. Quicksand

**Author's Note:**

 **This chapter ended up being more Mac than Lydia. I was having too much fun with him! Enjoy!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

 **Quicksand**

" _I'm sinking in the quicksand of my thought_

 _And I ain't got the power anymore_

 _Don't believe in yourself_

 _Don't deceive with belief_

 _Knowledge comes with death's release"_

 **Quicksand** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Mac watched as Lydia pulled the revolver's trigger. A spray of gore exploded from the opposite side of the man's head. The life left his eyes, now permanently set in an unfocused gaze.

Lydia let out a pained sigh. The revolver slipped from her hand and clattered to the ground. She rocked briefly, and Mac could tell that she was losing consciousness. He dropped his rifle and quickly kneeled down to catch her as she began to topple.

"Kellogg really did a number on her," Valentine said from beside him. "She's lost a lot of blood. Come on, bring her in here," he instructed, turning back to the room's exit.

Mac followed Valentine into the room they'd come through before. He set Lydia down onto the clean bed and removed the bag from her back so he could access her medical supplies.

Assessing her wounds, Mac noted a bullet hole in her left calf that was steadily leaking blood, as well as the bruise beginning to form on her cheek where that asshole had hit her. He remembered the guy knocking Lydia to the floor, and the sound her head had made when she'd met the concrete. Mac's blood boiled as he recalled the image of Kellogg's fist connecting with Lydia's face. Forcing himself to take a deep breath and steady his hands, he went to work mending his boss.

Mac splashed his hands with vodka to sterilize them. He stuck his fingers into the hole the bullet had made in her pants and ripped them open to reveal the wound. After he'd pulled the bullet from her leg, he cleaned the cavity with a few splashes of the alcohol and stimmed the edges. The muscle and skin began knitting itself closed, a pucker of pink flesh forming in its place.

After he'd fixed up the boss, he turned to his own wounds. They were few and minor, just some burns where the lasers from the synth's rifles had skimmed his flesh. Nothing that required a Stimpack.

Mac looked around the room and noticed that Valentine was absent. He wandered back into the control room where the showdown had taken place to find the detective bent over the kidnapper's remains.

Valentine glanced up as Mac entered. "Come look at this," he motioned Mac over.

Mac went to stand by the detective, looking down at the mess of tissue that had been Kellogg's brains. "Huh. That piece is shaped like a brahmin," he said, pointing.

Valentine shot Mac a deadpan look. He pointed to a particularly large portion of brain. "Here, smart ass," he said. "There looks to be some sort of circuitry embedded within the tissue. It's possible that Kellogg had some sort of cybernetic implants, maybe thanks to our friends at the Institute."

"Do you think he was a synth?" Mac asked.

"Possibly," Valentine said. He got up and left the room.

Mac stared at the remains of the mercenary, hate welling up in his chest. The kind of shit that guy had done, all on someone else's instruction. Mac knew that he would've become something similar to Kellogg if he hadn't left the Gunners when he did. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

Valentine returned, holding an empty IV bag and surgical scissors. He knelt down by the dead man and began cutting away the implant from his ruined brains.

"Ugh, gross," Mac commented.

Having removed the implant from the rest of the tissue, Valentine picked it up and dropped it into the IV bag before placing the whole thing into the pocket of his trench coat. "I know someone who may be able to extract information from this," he explained. "It could turn out to be important."

"Whatever could help, I guess," Mac shrugged.

"I used that terminal there to access an elevator that will go straight up and out of here," Valentine continued, pointing to a computer behind Mac. "It also contained an entry confirming what little information Kellogg did give us: the kid is at the Institute. Which means this was the easy part," he sighed. "I'm going on ahead to take this implant to my friend, see what we can learn from it. When Lydia's rested, meet up with me in Goodneighbor. A place called The Memory Den."

Mac nodded in understanding. He was going to see Doctor Amari.

Lydia slept through the night. Mac stationed a chair at her side, waking her up every couple hours to make sure she wasn't concussed.

Mac dozed on and off. Sleep, as always, was fleeting, especially when his thoughts trailed to Duncan. Mac felt the usual stab of guilt as he pictured his son's face.

Duncan, affected by a mysterious illness, who waited for his father in the Capitol Wasteland. Waited for a cure that may or may not save his life.

Mac knew that he had to attempt another trip to the Med-Tek labs soon to get the cure. He also knew that he couldn't do it alone. He'd tried before, and he'd nearly been eaten alive by feral ghouls in the process. Nearly met the same fate as his Lucy had down in that old subway station.

He'd been toying with the idea of asking Lydia to help him, but how could he ask her to risk her life like that before she even knew what had become of her own son? Mac knew he couldn't ask her to postpone her search to help him. He figured his only option was stick with her long enough in order to make the caps necessary to hire someone else.

Mac hung his head and allowed himself to shed a few tears for his broken family.

When dawn came, Lydia finally woke and the two headed for Goodneighbor. It was slow going while Lydia limped on her healing leg and they didn't walk through the city gate until late afternoon.

The journey had been quiet. Lydia had seemed lost in thought and Mac didn't press her to discuss the previous day. He could only imagine how she must feel. Finding out that her son was alive and well, but out of reach in some mysterious location. His heart hurt for her.

Daisy waved to them as they passed her store, throwing a wink at Mac. He smiled and waved back, following Lydia through town to The Memory Den.

Lydia stopped walking and turned as they neared the building. Mac knew what was coming next and irritation welled up in him.

"Don't say it," he snapped angrily. "You wanna keep your secrets, that's fine. I'll be at the bar when you need me."

"Wait," Lydia stopped him with a hand on his arm as he turned to leave. The look in her eyes was so raw and full of pain that Mac felt his anger start to fizzle. "I'm sorry," she went on. "I know that I owe you an explanation. And I will give it to you, I promise. Just…bear with me. This whole situation is so fucking weird…" she trailed off. A tear slid from her eye and she swiped it away quickly.

Mac sighed. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "You don't have anything to apologize for," he said. "I shouldn't have jumped down your throat like that. You don't owe me any explanation you're not willing to give and I know it's not my place. Man I'm such an ass."

Lydia cocked a small smile. "Well, at least we can agree on that."

Mac smirked at her and swore he saw a blush creep up onto her face.

"Alright, go do what you need to. You know where to find me," he said.

"Thanks, Mac," she smiled. He tipped his hat at her and went into the bar.

* * *

Doctor Amari and Nick were waiting for Lydia when she entered the basement room of the Memory Den.

"Are you alright?" Nick asked, stepping up beside her.

Lydia shrugged. "Alive," was all she could tell him.

Nick nodded solemnly. He gave her a rundown of his findings from Fort Hagen (which she'd already heard from Mac) and Amari brought her up to speed on what they could possibly accomplish with the piece of Kellogg's brain, and the issues they'd had with breaking the encryption.

"We believe that the encryption is meant to prevent a single mind from accessing the data…" Amari trailed off.

"So we're thinking that if Amari connects the both of us, we'll be able to get around it," Nick finished explaining.

"And he'll act as a host while your consciousness drives through whatever memories we can find," Amari put in.

"But Nick is an older model synth," Lydia interjected. "Is he compatible?"

"Yes," Amari assured, "it should hook right in. But even if this works, Mister Valentine is taking a huge risk. We're talking about wiring something to his brain."

Lydia raised her eyebrows in Nick's direction, but he waved away her unspoken concern. "Don't worry about me, Amari. I'm well past my warranty date, anyway," he winked at Lydia.

"Any idea what I'm going to see in there, doc?" Lydia asked as she climbed into the memory lounger.

"I have no clue, but considering we only have a single piece of the medial temporal lobe, and not the whole brain, I doubt it'll be...cohesive," Amari replied.

"Let's do it," Lydia said. Amari closed the hatch on the lounger.

* * *

Mac sat at the bar in The Third Rail. He'd been waiting over two hours for Lydia to finish up with Valentine and Amari , and had just finished his fourth whiskey. He considered ordering another but ultimately decided against it. He was pretty tipsy as it was. Also, while the alcohol usually helped numb his feelings, tonight it only served as an amplifier.

Head full of guilt and sorrow, he got up from his stool and made for the exit. The stale air in the bar was only giving him a headache and making everything that much worse.

Night had fallen while Mac had been in the bar. He leisurely made his was over to The Memory Den in the dark, deciding to wait for Lydia outside. He took a seat on the ground to the left of the door and lit a cigarette.

Suddenly Mac couldn't breathe as a hand clamped down on his throat. He was yanked roughly off the ground and pulled into the side alley next to The Memory Den. The hand shoved him hard up against the brick wall of the building and a face came into view.

Mac recognized the man as Sinclair, one of the Gunners that ran with Winlock's group. He also knew that this particularly large man was the muscle that Winlock used when he wanted to send a message.

 _Fuck me_ , Mac swore internally, his lungs burning from lack of oxygen.

"Well hell, how ya been there, Mac?" Sinclair asked. The Gunner loosened his grip on Mac's throat enough for him to get a shallow breath.

"Is there an answer that doesn't end with you beating the crap out of me?" Mac wheezed.

Sinclair laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. Once again he tightened his grip on Mac's throat, this time lifting him up the wall and off his feet. "Always with the mouth, MacCready. We'll see if you got anything smart to say after this."

Mac could breathe again for a second as he was released, but the air left his lungs completely when the larger man punched him hard in the stomach. As Mac doubled over, Sinclair brought his knee up into Mac's face.

Blood poured from Mac's broken nose as he fell onto the ground. He received a kick to the stomach before Sinclair kneeled down grabbed him by the hair, bringing Mac's face to his own.

"Your breath smells like shit," Mac spat. He was rewarded with a punch to the face.

"Winlock says 'hi'," Sinclair sneered. He lifted Mac's head higher before smashing it down against the pavement.

* * *

Lydia left The Memory Den with a new goal: get to the glowing sea and find an escaped Institute scientist who could hopefully get her a way to teleport into the fortress.

 _Sure, why not?_ Lydia thought sarcastically.

Her to-do list kept growing and she felt like she was being crushed under the weight of it all. But she knew she'd do anything to find Shaun and she wasn't going to give up.

She also knew that she'd have to tell MacCready the whole story soon or risk having him walk. As much as she knew she was probably capable of surviving on her own if she had to, she was actually really enjoying having the merc around for company. And his cute smirk, too.

After looking around the bar and seeing no signs of Mac, she went over to the Rexford to see if he'd decided to crash early. But he wasn't there either and she started to worry, fearing that he'd grown tired of waiting for her to come clean and taken off.

She wandered Goodneighbor for a while, glancing around for the merc, and eventually came to the conclusion that he'd moved on without her. Lydia sighed, trying not to admit to herself how saddened she was by his disappearance. She decided to head over to the hotel for some sleep.

As she passed by The Memory Den, she saw a figure lying on the ground in the alley. She'd seen the person on her first pass-through, and had assumed it was some drifter sleeping off his drink. But from her new angle she also saw the outline of a cap on the ground nearby. Lydia hurried closer, seeing the distinct holes of Mac's old duster.

"Mac!" she screamed. Her heart lurched in her chest as she ran the last few steps to her fallen merc.


	14. Without You

**Author's Note:**

 **Okay guys, I actually had a fairly difficult time writing this one but I'm so pleased with how it turned out. Lareepqg, I tried to take your advice to heart when I was writing as Lydia. I hope this will bring you all a little closer to her. Please enjoy and let me know what you think! Love to all my readers!**

 **P.S. I also went back and corrected a few typos I spotted in the previous chapters. I scour these chapters over and over again for errors before I post, but I do miss them occasionally. If you catch one please don't hesitate to send me a pm or something so I can fix it!**

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

 **Without You**

" _Just when I'm ready to throw in my hand_

 _Just when the best things in life are gone_

 _I look into your eyes_

 _There's no smoke without fire_

 _You're exactly who I want to be with_

 _Without you_

 _What would I do?"_

 **Without You** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia stood over the gurney, staring down at Mac's bruised face. After discovering him lying unconscious in the alley, she had run to Amari for help. The two had carried Mac down into the doctor's lab where Amari had stimmed his broken nose and bruised ribs.

He had yet to awaken, however, and Lydia grew increasingly concerned as time ticked slowly by. Amari had said that he'd likely received a concussion, but was hopeful that the Stimpack she'd used on his face to mend his nose would repair any other damage he'd sustained to his head.

 _Please wake up, Mac_ , she thought to herself.

Even with the doctor's reassurances, Lydia was still scared. He looked better now, aside from the bruising, but her mind kept wandering back to how broken he'd looked when she'd found him. She paced the room, constantly glancing at Mac to check for any signs of movement.

 _Come on. Open your eyes!_

Needing an outlet for her nervous energy, Lydia went to the sink to fill a basin with water so she could clean the dried blood from Mac's face. As the water ran, a memory flashed through her brain.

Her father, singing to her as she lay in bed. She'd been very young, ill with a high fever and unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. The only way he could get her to relax was by singing her favorite songs as he pressed a cool cloth to her forehead.

Lydia pulled over a stool and sat next to Mac's head. Dipping a rag into the pan of warm water, she began wiping the dried blood and grime from his face. They were alone in the room, Amari having gone to bed after she'd finished working on him. Feeling self-conscious in spite of the sleeping merc and otherwise empty room, she took a shaky breath and began to sing (for Mac or herself, she wasn't sure), anyway:

"Ground control to Major Tom

Ground control to Major Tom

Take your protein pills

And put your helmet on

Ground control to Major Tom

Commencing countdown

Engines on

Check ignition

And may God's love be with you…"

Lydia continued singing as tears came to her eyes and threatened to spill over. As she sat there tending to her fallen companion, she felt a new emotion rising in her chest. Different from the loving admiration she'd felt for her father. Different from the passing fondness she'd felt for her husband. Different from the motherly love she felt for her son. And different from the rage that had taken root within her since his kidnapping.

"...This is major Tom to ground control

I'm stepping through the door

And I'm floating

In the most peculiar way

And the stars look very different today…"

As she gazed upon Macs's face, she felt the hardness that she'd built up around her heart begin to crack and break away, a new sort of heat creeping in to fill the gaps. Images from the past few days flashed through her mind like a movie reel: the look of calm intensity in Mac's eyes as he aimed his rifle, the anger on his face as he shouted at Lydia for being careless, the softness of his gaze as he tended her wound, the drunken smile he'd given her when he'd spent her caps on booze. And then there was that smirk. The smirk that did fluttery things to her insides as she wondered what else those lips could do...how they'd feel under her own.

"...Though I'm past

One-hundred-thousand miles

I'm feeling very still

And I think my spaceship

Knows which way to go…"

Lydia's gaze moved to Mac's torso. He was naked from the waist up where Amari had stimmed his ribs. She watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest as her eyes traced the bruising that had blossomed over his lean muscles.

 _Please wake up, Mac. Please_.

"...Can you hear me, Major Tom?

Can you hear me, Major Tom?

Can you…"

"I hear you, but 'Tom' still isn't my name," Mac spoke up.

"Jesus!" Lydia jumped, hot embarrassment flooding to her face at being caught singing. She stood too quickly, knocking over her stool and the basin of bloody water, both clattering to the floor.

"No, that's not it, either. Am I not the one with the head injury?" he smirked.

"You scared the shit out of me!" Lydia exclaimed.

Mac started to chuckle but it turned into a groan. "Ugh," he brought his hand up to his eyes, "my head kills."

"I've got something for that," Lydia said. She turned away, eager to hide her face and the embarrassment that was evident there. She took her time going to where she'd left her pack on the couch, pawing through its contents for a syringe of Med-X. When her cheeks felt cooler, she turned and went back to Mac. "You want to tell me what happened?" she asked as she put the needle into his arm and expended the medication.

"A message from my old buddy, Winlock," Mac said quietly.

"So I'm guessing your break-up with the Gunners wasn't as 'clean' as you said it was?"

Mac sighed. "They didn't want me taking anymore jobs in the Commonwealth. I'm sure this was a warning because I took up with you."

"Ah," Lydia nodded. The two were silent for a while. Lydia grabbed a mop from the corner and cleaned the water she'd spilt. She contemplated the choices she had before her, of which there were really only two.

One: she could fire Mac, leave him behind and go on about her business alone. She didn't need crazy mercenaries coming after her as she scoured the Commonwealth for her son. There were enough bad things out there without the added concern of trained killers on her heels. But that would leave her alone again, and did she really want that?

Two: she could help Mac take the fight to the Gunners, and cut the problem down at the source.

 _You want to help him_ , she admitted to herself. And it was true. He'd already saved her life twice (probably three times, if she counted her rage-induced blackout down in Vault 114) and she wanted to return the favor.

But it was about more than leveling the playing field. Lydia had always thought herself to be a solitary individual, but suddenly the thought of going on without MacCready started a panic rising within her. She couldn't believe how much things had changed in less than a week's time. A week ago, she hadn't wanted anyone with her, not even the dog that had been her first (brief) companion out in the wasteland. And now she was thinking of going into the lion's den so that she could keep her mercenary around.

 _Option number two it is_.

"Alright," Lydia said aloud, her decision made. "We're going to wait a few days so the both of us can heal up, then we're taking this fight to them."

Mac's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Are you sure about that? I probably don't need to tell you how dangerous that's gonna be. I don't want to be responsible for anything happening to you before…" he trailed off, but Lydia knew what he meant.

"It's my decision," she said firmly. "We're doing this. Besides, we'll be fine. We make a pretty good team," she winked at him.

Mac put on a goofy smile. His eyes were glazing over as the Med-X kicked in. Lydia returned his smile, warmth spreading through her chest at the joy on his face.

"Get some rest," she told him. "Now that I know you're not actively dying, I can try getting some, too."

"Awe, you-ere worried 'bout me, Boss?" Mac prodded, his voice slurred from the drug.

"Of course I was," Lydia assured him. She went to the couch and lay down, positioning her pack behind her head as a makeshift pillow. "If you'd died, I'd have to hire someone else to carry my shit. I hardly have time to take applications, do interviews, background checks, drug testing. The hiring process is a bitch."

"I dunno...what yer talkin 'bout," Mac slurred around a yawn.

Lydia laughed. "I know. Go to sleep, Mac."

"Yes'm," he mumbled.

As the fear Lydia had been feeling over Mac's condition was replaced with relief, she was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. Closing her eyes, she soon fell asleep.

* * *

Mac woke up late the next day. Lydia had been gone when he'd woken, and Amari informed him that she was "running errands" and would be back later on. He spent the majority of the day pacing Amari's lab and stewing in his thoughts.

He was both anxious and apprehensive about taking on Winlock, Barnes, and their horde of Gunners. He also had mixed feelings about Lydia agreeing (insisting, really) on helping him. While Mac was grateful that she would even consider it, he was also terrified of her dying before she found her son. He didn't want to have that on his conscience along with everything else. Not to mention that the thought of Lydia dying twisted his insides up into some crazy feeling that he wasn't ready to acknowledge.

But he knew that there were no other options. That bastard, Sinclair, had robbed him of his meager savings after beating the piss out of him, preventing any sort of pay-off he may have hoped to achieve with Winlock. Which he doubted was even viable, anyway. He was also back to square one on saving for another gun-for-hire to take with him to Med-Tek.

And on top of all that, Sinclair had also taken Mac's rifle. Mac was maybe more upset about that than everything else combined. He'd had that rifle nearly his whole life. It had gotten him out of every jam he'd ever been in. He felt naked without it and it pissed him off. He hoped like hell that Sinclair was at Mass Pike when he and Lydia went. He was going to get his damned gun back and then he was going to use it to shoot Sinclair in his ugly face.

Lydia finally returned in the early evening. "How are you feeling?" she asked Mac as she entered the room.

Mac almost laughed. How was he feeling? Angry, anxious, guilty, worried, scared, and sick of his own whirlwind of thoughts. "Sore," he said, deciding to give the easiest answer.

Lydia nodded. "I guess so. Your face looks like shit, by the way," she said with a teasing smile.

"Yeah well, now we match," he motioned to her own face, cheek still bruised from her fight with Kellogg.

She laughed. "Fair enough. You ready to get out of here?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Mac nearly ran to grab his bag.


	15. Conversation Piece

**Author's Note:**

 **Sorry for the delay, guys. I know I've been updating every day but it just didn't happen yesterday. This chapter totally got away from me. When I sat down to write it, I'd intended for this one to be the battle with the Gunners. But this is what came out! So I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!**

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

 **Conversation Piece**

" _It all seems so long ago_

 _I'm a thinker_

 _Not a talker_

 _I've no one to talk to anyway_

 _I can't see the road_

 _For the rain in my eyes"_

 **Conversation Piece** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Two days later, Mac and Lydia finally headed out to take on the Gunners. They'd left Goodneighbor the day before and had spent the night in Diamond City after stocking up on supplies and ammo.

While laid up healing, they'd had plenty of time to form a strategy for the attack. The base was high up on a fallen overpass, accessible only by lift. Their plan was to come in quietly after dark from the north elevator lift, which Mac had said was always less guarded than the main one directly underneath. If everything went according to plan, they'd be able to sneak in and start taking out the Gunners from a distance. Lydia had bought a new rifle for Mac and outfitted both his and her own with long-range, night vision scopes and suppressors. She knew they were as ready as they could be.

Mac led them west toward the interchange at first, then north so they could loop around. As Lydia followed behind him, her thoughts wandered off in their own direction.

While Lydia had concerns about the upcoming fight, she was confident in both Mac's abilities and her own. Especially after they'd come across a group of super mutants while leaving the area around Diamond City and had taken them all out with no issues.

They'd spent a lot of down-time together over the past few days. A lot of time talking, and a lot of time drinking. Mac had told her a few stories about growing up in a cave, where he'd been the mayor of a whole colony of kids, but they'd never broached anything too personal.

As the days went on, Lydia felt increasingly guilty that she hadn't come clean with Mac about her unique situation. She'd started to a couple times when they'd been a few drinks in, but she hadn't been quite able to get the words out.

 _How do I even begin_ that _conversation?_ she wondered. _Oh, by the way, I'm a two-hundred year old popsicle._ Fuck, it sounded crazy. She wouldn't believe it if she hadn't lived it herself. Sometimes she still didn't.

As much as she dreaded telling him, she knew she had to. Soon.

Lydia watched Mac move over the Wasteland terrain with ease, thinking back to the night she'd taken care of him after his beating. The warmth that she'd felt for him in her heart that night hadn't gone away. In fact, it had been growing larger with each day that passed. With each smile, each smirk.

She was also painfully aware that it had been a very long time since she'd had sex (two-hundred-ten years, to be exact) and she couldn't help but wonder how it would be to have Mac's calloused hands on her body. Running those rough fingers up under her shirt, grabbing a handful of...

Lydia was pulled out of her thoughts as she walked right into Mac, knocking him off balance and causing him to stumble forward.

"I'm sorry!" Lydia said as Mac turned and gave her a "what the fuck?" look. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, as if he could tell what she'd been thinking.

"I hope you're paying better attention than that when we get to the base," Mac smirked, which only made Lydia blush harder.

"Sorry," she repeated. "Just lost in thought."

"Yeah well, that's a good way to get yourself killed. Also, you scared away dinner," Mac said, pointing in the direction of a rapidly retreating radstag.

"Oh. Shit," Lydia sighed.

Mac resumed walking and Lydia followed. When she was sure that the blush had faded from her cheeks, she moved up so that the two were side-by-side.

"I know of a place where we can camp out and rest for a few hours before we go in," Mac said as she pulled up even with him.

"Sounds good to me."

They walked a little longer, and Lydia managed to shoot a squirrel along the way for them to eat. "It's not radstag, but it's something," she said, holding the dead squirrel up by the tail.

Mac shrugged. "Better than radroach."

"Eww gross! You've eaten that?" Lydia's stomach turned at the thought.

"You would, too, if you were hungry enough," he replied.

As dusk fell, Mac led Lydia to a small area of flat land between an outcropping of rocks. Bordered by heavy foliage, it had a small fire pit in the middle between a few tree stumps and enough room for a sleeping bag near the back.

"Nice," Lydia observed as she shrugged out of her pack and took a seat on a stump. She put the squirrel down onto one of the rocks that ringed the fire pit and went about gutting and cleaning it so they could eat.

"Yeah, I found it a while back. Well, I relieved the area from a couple raiders, anyway. Used to come here to get away when I was still with the Gunners," Mac said, removing his own bag and dropping it near Lydia's. "I'm going to find some firewood."

Mac returned a short time later, carrying an armload of firewood and his own, much larger, dead squirrel.

Lydia raised an eyebrow at his kill. "Show off," she teased.

* * *

Mac sat across the fire from Lydia, using his pocket-knife to pick the squirrel bits from his teeth. Neither had spoken for a while, Lydia seemingly lost in thought as she stared into the fire.

As Mac watched the flames dance around Lydia's eyes, he thought about how different she was from his late wife. Lucy would have gone hungry before she'd gut and clean an animal. Mac had always done those things. And while Lucy had known how to shoot fairly decently, she'd lacked any of the stealth and grace that Lydia had. Lucy had been skinny and bony, a product of her rough Wasteland upbringing. Lydia, while thin, had curves that were uncommon to most Wastelanders, and Mac constantly had to concentrate to keep his gaze from wandering.

In fact, Lydia was beginning to replace Lucy in his thoughts more and more. The night he'd been beaten in that alley, it was his boss's face rather than Lucy's that had floated through his mind before losing consciousness. Her hazel eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled and shook her head at his smart-ass remarks. Her dark hair falling over her shoulder as she aimed her gun. And when he'd come to down in the basement of The Memory Den to Lydia's singing…he didn't think he'd ever heard anything so beautiful. Then the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks that followed when she'd realized that she'd been caught.

He watched her across the fire then, teeth worrying her bottom lip, and imagined taking that lip in between his own teeth. Breathing in her moans as he grabbed her round hips. Sliding his hands around and feeling the smooth skin of her ass.

Lydia suddenly cleared her throat, forcing Mac out of his daydream. He crossed his legs to hide his erection.

"I um...I know you've been waiting for an explanation from me," she began, pausing to light a cigarette. "I know how perceptive you are, and I'm sure you didn't miss the things that Kellogg said during our confrontation. Things that, from the outside, make...absolutely zero sense."

He _had_ been wondering about the strange things the kidnapper had said. How could she not know how old her son was? What did he mean by calling her a frozen TV dinner? "I have been curious," Mac agreed, lighting his own cigarette.

Lydia nodded. "I told you that I'd explain when I was ready. I don't know if I'll ever be ready, really, but I'm going to tell you anyway. In case something happens to me tonight, then you won't be left wondering."

Mac wanted to tell her that she didn't have to explain, but the bigger part of him was extremely anxious to know.

Lydia took a long drag on her cigarette. She blew the smoke out before taking a deep breath, then began.

* * *

"So that's why I have no idea exactly how old my son is. I've missed probably ten years of his life. He doesn't know me. And I don't know anything about him," Lydia finished quietly. She wiped away a tear before glancing up to Mac. She'd been lost in the fire during the retelling of her story, and she could still see it's blaze reflected in Mac's blue eyes.

Mac was wide-eyed, eyebrows raised so high up on his forehead that they were hidden under the brim of his cap. "So you weren't sh-kidding when you told me you were two-hundred-thirty-three," he said.

Lydia shook her head. "No, I wasn't."

Mac sighed and rubbed a hand over the hair on his face. "I can see why you were hesitant to tell me. It's a pretty crazy story."

"I know."

"Were you in the military or something? You're so good with a gun, and you seem to know how to handle yourself out here. If it weren't for that Pip-boy and your damn near flawless skin, I wouldn't have even thought twice about you being a native Wastelander."

"No, I wasn't in the military. My husband was, but I didn't learn that stuff from him. My father was big on apocalypse preparation. He taught me everything I know." Lydia laughed. "People used to think he was so paranoid. Hell, I did sometimes, too. But if he hadn't taught me all that stuff, I wouldn't have survived a day out here. He was a good man."

Mac was silent for a while. Lydia wondered what he was thinking, though she could bet that he was just trying to process all the crazy new information.

"Damn. You're like, really old," Mac said, giving her his signature smirk.

Lydia smiled at that. She picked up a squirrel bone from the ground where she'd dropped it earlier and threw it at him across the fire. He ducked, laughing as he straightened up.

At the sound of his laugh, Lydia felt a little of the weight she'd been carrying lift from her shoulders.

* * *

Mac watched Lydia light another cigarette.

 _Two-hundred-ten years old. Damn that's a lot to process_ , he thought.

While he could see why she'd been so nervous to tell him (it did sound pretty crazy) Mac believed her. He'd been down into plenty of those old vaults and had seen the kinds of messed up shit that Vault-Tec was capable of.

Mac could imagine how she felt missing out on so much of her son's life, too. Hell, it had been over a year since he'd seen Duncan and it was killing him. But to have missed that much time...to have her son not know her…

 _It must be eating her alive_.

Mac wanted to commiserate with Lydia. He wanted to tell her about his son, about the similarities in their unique situations. But as he watched her smoke her cigarette across the fire, he saw the sadness in her eyes. While she was an incredibly strong person, maybe the strongest person he'd met, he didn't want to be responsible for adding to the already considerable weight she was carrying.

Also, if this side-trek to the Gunner base was any indication, as soon as she found out about his son's illness he knew she'd jump on the chance to help him. That would only further delay her own mission and Mac didn't want _that_ on _his_ shoulders.

Mac shook his head to clear his rapidly rotating (and conflicting) thoughts. "What time is it?" he asked Lydia.

She rotated a dial on her Pip-boy before answering. "Two-fifteen. Ready to get this show on the road?"

Mac nodded. "Hell yes. Let's go end this."


	16. I Feel Free

**Author's Note:**

 **Here's an extra chapter to make up for not posting yesterday! Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

 **I Feel Free**

" _Dear when I dance with you_

 _We move like the sea_

 _You_

 _You're all I want to know_

 _I feel free_

 _I feel free"_

 **I Feel Free** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Mac paused in his sneaking, holding up a hand to Lydia in a signal to wait. He lifted his newly-acquired rifle to his eye and sighted down the night vision scope. He hadn't been thrilled about going after the Gunners in the dark, but he'd agreed with Lydia that it was their best chance at taking out the most from a distance without being seen.

He scanned the area around the north lift thoroughly, spotting one lone recruit seated on the ground near the elevator. As he'd expected, the lift was poorly guarded.

 _Morons_ , Mac thought as he fixed the woman's head in his crosshairs. He pulled the trigger. The suppressed shot hit its mark and the Gunner fell. He waited for minute, making sure nobody would come to inspect the fallen woman. When he was sure they were in the clear, he motioned to Lydia and the pair moved forward.

Stepping onto the lift with Lydia, Mac hesitated with his hand over the button. "If you want to change your mind, now is the time," he whispered. "After this there's no going back."

There was only moonlight to see by, being that it was nearly three in the morning, but it was enough for Mac to see the whites of Lydia's eyes as she rolled them. "You don't have to keep telling me that, Mac. I want to do this," she placed a hand on MacCready's arm and squeezed.

Mac gazed into her eyes for a moment before pressing the lift's button.

* * *

Lydia followed close behind Mac as he made his way up the ramp to the overpass. They were still a little ways from the Gunner's base, but Mac was taking extra caution, moving slowly and more cautiously than normal.

Mac motioned for Lydia to take cover behind a car, while he moved ahead a little farther and took up a spot near a concrete divider. They'd gone over this plan nearly on a loop for the past two days while Mac had been stuck recovering. She knew what she was supposed to do.

Looking over his shoulder to Lydia, Mac nodded. He turned back and raised his rifle. She heard the short "pop" of the silenced shot, and watched through her scope as the nearest Gunner fell.

A machine gun turret clicked nearby where the man had fallen, but since his death had been quick and silent, the machine had yet to detect hostile movement. The goal was to make it to the connected terminal and turn it off before it, or anyone else, saw them.

Lydia waited a few moments for Mac to signal her forward. When he did, they began moving again, him on the right wall of the overpass, her on the left. Halfway to their destination Mac froze. The turret's barrel had swung suddenly in his direction. Lydia heard the cylinders rotating as the machine gun fired up. She quickly raised her rifle and fired.

 _Fuck! So much for the stealth approach,_ Lydia thought as the turret exploded.

Lydia ran forward in her crouched position to take cover behind a wall as she heard shouting coming from inside the camp, Mac taking his own cover behind a concrete barricade. Leaning out from behind the wall, she saw a handful of people running around, weapons raised as they searched for the threat. She sighted one through her scope and fired, landing a clean headshot. Another fell right behind him, courtesy of Mac.

Moving back behind the wall, she cocked her rifle before leaning back out to take another shot. A woman with a laser pistol had moved in close. She took a shot and Lydia felt the burn of the laser skim her arm as she took her own shot. Not having taken the time to aim properly, the shot missed it's intended mark but struck the other woman in her leg. She fell, laser pistol scattering across the pavement. Lydia lined up her next shot properly, sending a bullet into the top of the woman's head.

Having cleared the remaining closer ones, Mac ran forward, jumping over a wall of sandbags and ducking down behind another barricade. Lydia followed his lead, moving out from behind her wall cover to hide behind the concrete divider in the middle of the highway.

Mac nodded to the large city bus that sat in the road ahead. Lydia had seen the people moving around inside, taking up positions near the blown-out windows. From her angle, she could also see through the doorway into the bus. Lydia watched as an assaultron entered, stopping in the doorway as it looked around for the threats.

 _Shit_ , Lydia thought. Those things could be extremely dangerous. She knew she had to take it out before it got too close. She aimed and fired at the robot's leg, taking out its knee joint.

The assaultron fell over onto one of the men that had been crouched near the bus's door, both yelling out. While Lydia had managed to knock the robot down, and maybe hurt someone else in the process, she'd also alerted the other people on the bus to her position. She heard yelling, and felt the heat from a laser whisk by her head, but she had her sights set on the assaultron, which was now using its metal arms to crawl toward the makeshift ramp that would bring it over the divider and right to her.

Mac popped up from his hiding place, standing up in order to take shots at the Gunners over the high front windows of the bus. Making a split-second decision, Lydia reached into a pocket on her leather chest harness and pulled out a grenade. "Get down!" She yelled to Mac. She pulled the pin with her teeth and threw the explosive into the bus through the doorway as Mac ducked down behind his barricade.

Lydia threw herself down behind the concrete divider as the explosion rang out through the bus. Pieces of metal shrapnel flew above her head and clattered to the pavement around her. A large bang sounded to her left, and she looked over to see the assautron's head rolling on the ground. She breathed a sigh of relief as the red light that had been its eye blinked and then went dark.

* * *

Mac peeked out from behind his barricade and glanced to where he'd seen Lydia before the grenade had blown. She poked her head out over the divider, eyes immediately finding Mac's. She winked at him and smiled, and Mac felt relief flood through him at the sight of her unhurt. He glanced around to make sure the coast was clear, then ran low and vaulted over the divider, landing in a crouch next to Lydia.

"We've taken out a good portion of them," he whispered, "but I haven't seen any signs of Winlock or Barnes. Or that bastard, Sinclair."

As if on cue, a low voice boomed out through the overpass, "Come on out, you chicken-shit!"

Mac's head snapped up in the direction of the voice. "Barnes. I'm going in that way," Mac pointed to the bus door, now black and charred from the explosion. "You go that way and sneak around from the back," he instructed Lydia, pointing to the left down a row of cars.

"Be careful," she whispered back, concern showing in her gaze.

"You too."

Mac watched Lydia sneak down the row of cars and disappear behind one before going back over the divider and creeping up to the bus door. Once he got into the old bus, there would be no place to take cover.

Mac quickly removed the suppressor from his rifle and shoved it into his pocket. The Gunners knew approximately where he was. There was no need to silence his shots now and he'd get better range without it, anyway. Readying his rifle, Mac stepped up into the bus.

As he crept to the open back-end, careful not to trip over any pieces of what had recently been Gunners, he could see Barnes a few yards ahead of him, and Winlock much farther back, decked out in power armor. Barnes had his back turned to Mac and didn't see the young merc creep up behind him, but his companion did. He shouted at Barnes and pointed to where Mac stood, but Mac was already squeezing his trigger as Barnes began to turn.

Gore exploded from the back of Barnes's head as Mac's shot hit home. Winlock opened fire, bullets tearing through the back end of the bus as Mac dove out of the vehicle and onto the pavement. Keeping low to the ground, he shimmied over to take up a place behind a metal barricade. Mac got to his knees and cocked his rifle as Winlock's bullets pinged off the other side.

When there was a break in fire, Mac leaned out from behind the barricade to see Winlock stumbling through reloading his gun, hands clumsy in the gloves of the power armor. Mac smiled darkly, standing up straight from behind his hiding place. He had Winlock's head in his crosshairs. Through his scope, Mac saw Winlock look up to him. The other man's eyes went wide, right before Mac's bullet hit its mark in between them.

Mac grinned as Winlock went down, making a loud boom as the dead man crashed to the pavement in the heavy power armor.

"Yes!" Mac let out a whoop of excitement, pumping his fist in the air. "We did it! Boss, we got 'em!" Mac called to Lydia.

Lydia stuck her head out from the storage shack up to Mac's left. "Over here!" she waved.

When Mac neared the shed, he heard pained moans coming from inside. He ran the last few steps. As he came through the door, Lydia turned from the shelf she'd been looting, giving Mac a wide smile and holding up a cap bomb. "They have some good stuff in here," she said, pushing the explosive into her bag.

Lydia pointed to the corner where a man lay, covered in blood and groaning weakly. "That asshole grabbed me and dragged me in here. He pointed this at me," she said, picking up something from the shelf and handing to to Mac.

Mac's eyes lit up at the sight of his trusty old rifle. Slinging the newer one onto his back, he took his gun from Lydia. He went to where the injured man lay on the floor and rolled him over with his boot. Mac laughed at the sight of Sinclair, hands bloody and held over the hole where his groin had been. The man was pale and sweaty, he didn't have a lot of time left before he bled out.

"He tried to get fresh with me," Lydia said, coming up beside Mac. "Guess you won't be rubbing that nasty thing on anyone else huh?" she mocked Sinclair, gesturing to his bloodied crotch. She bumped Mac's shoulder with her own. "I assume this is the asshole that bruised up your pretty face? Thought you'd want the honor of finishing him off. It's loaded," she nodded to the rifle in his hands.

Mac cocked the rifle and took another step towards the bloody man. "Well hell, how you been there, Sinclair?" Mac said, mimicking the other man's words from the last time they'd met. He lowered his rifle to Sinclair's head. "Make sure you say hello to Winlock for me," he quipped before pulling the trigger.

* * *

Lydia followed Mac out of the storage shed, both their packs full of ammo and various other loot. "I took out the ones on the ground before that smelly asshole grabbed me," Lydia said. "We should be free to use the main lift when we leave."

"Good," Mac said. He went to another shack a little ways away from the storage area. "You should come see this!" he called back to Lydia.

Lydia stepped up into the shack. Mac sat on the end of a bed, rooting through an open green trunk that sat in front of him. "Anything good in there?" she asked.

Holding out a few boxes of ammo, Mac smiled widely up at her. "Hell yes there is. We shouldn't need to buy ammo for a while," he replied, putting the boxes into a duffel bag they'd found in the storage shed.

Watching Mac empty the contents of the trunk, Lydia breathed a sigh of relief. They'd done it. And Mac looked so happy. His joyful smile brought warmth to her chest, and a smile to her own lips.

Finished looting the trunk, Mac stood and turned to Lydia. He still had that happy grin on his face but as he looked at her his smile fell and a frown took its place.

Dropping the bags at his feet, Mac rushed to Lydia and took her face in between his hands. She was slightly taken aback by the heated rage she saw in his eyes. He turned her face to the light, inspecting the new bruise that had begun to form over the almost faded one. "Did he hit you?" Mac demanded.

Lydia nodded, Mac's hands still on the sides of her head. "Yeah, he did. But I think I got him worse," she smiled up at Mac.

Mac smirked, that twitch of lips that set Lydia's pulse racing. "I guess you did."

Lydia's gaze caught Mac's. The rage that'd burned in his blue eyes moments before had been replaced with a different sort of intensity.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Lydia knew what was going to happen the second before Mac crushed his lips to hers.


	17. Fill Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

 **Okay guys, it's here! Finally a chapter that truly makes this story worthy of its "M" rating! Let me know what you think! Enjoy ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

 **Fill Your Heart**

" _Happiness is happening_

 _The dragons have been bled_

 _Gentleness is everywhere_

 _Fear's just in your head_

 _Only in your head_

 _Fear is in your head_

 _Only in your head"_

 **Fill Your Heart** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia closed her eyes and leaned into Mac's kiss. She lowered her shoulder, allowing her bag to fall down her arm to the floor. Sliding her hands up his chest, she grabbed the front of Mac's coat and pulled him in closer.

Mac's hands made their way down Lydia's face, roaming over her body and coming to rest on her hips. Lydia opened her mouth and sought out Mac's tongue with her own, deepening the kiss as she breathed him in. He responded hungrily, his facial hair scraping her face. Lydia moaned into his mouth as his tongue moved over her own, his hands moving around to her ass and pulling her further into him. She could feel his erection press into her lower stomach, sending a jolt of electricity through her groin.

Grabbing the back of Mac's neck, she took his lower lip in between her teeth and bit down gently. A growl rumbled up from his chest. He moved a hand up to the back of her head, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling her head to the side. Lydia cried out at the pleasurable pain. Mac's mouth left hers, going lower to bite and suck on her neck. She snaked her arms around behind him, one going up the back of his head and knocking his cap to the floor, the other grabbing a handful of his coat.

While he worked at her neck, licking his way up to nibble her earlobe, Lydia went to work unhooking the leather armor from his arms. Mac moved back to her mouth, pushing his tongue against hers as she finished removing his upper armor and dropped the last piece to the floor. She returned his kiss forcefully, pushing her hands under the front of his duster and sliding it over his shoulders. He dropped his arms from around her body and let the coat slide to the floor before moving to undo Lydia's armor.

They broke their kiss briefly in order to remove their remaining pieces of armor. When the leather was scattered on the ground, Lydia grabbed Mac's face and pulled it back her own, once again claiming his mouth. He moved his hands over her body as their tongues danced, pulling her into his hardness. He cupped her ass and then moved to grab her thighs, lifting her up so she straddled him, their heat of their groins pressed together through their clothes. They moaned into each other's mouths as Mac turned and carried Lydia across the room to the bed. He dropped her down to sit on the mattress, pausing with his hands on either side of her hips.

Lydia caught Mac's eyes with her own, seeing the need and heat swirling in the blue depths. She smiled wickedly up at him.

"I've been thinking about this...since the first time I saw you," Mac panted. "Do you want to do this? I want to...god do I want to. I just don't want to risk…" he trailed off.

"I can't get pregnant again," she assured him. "I had my tubes tied after Shaun."

Mac's brow furrowed in confusion. "The plumbing is all intact, but the pipes don't connect anymore," Lydia explained, unclipping her Pip-boy from her wrist and leaning over to set it down on the floor.

"Ah," Mac nodded. "We're safe then?"

Lydia reached up and grabbed the back of Mac's neck, pulling him in for a brief kiss. "Yes. I want you," she breathed into his mouth.

"I want you too, Boss," Mac growled, giving her his famous smirk.

"Don't call me that now," she said, bringing him down to cover his smirk with her lips. Mac reciprocated the kiss, his urgency returning .

Lydia moved backward on the bed as Mac crawled over her, their mouths still connected. She laid down on her back, Mac positioning himself to lean on his left side next to her. Lydia moved her hands up to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them as he continued to kiss her deeply.

When she'd popped open the last button of Mac's shirt, she moved her arms to allow him access to her own. He undid her buttons one-handed, pushing the flannel material out of the way when the shirt was open. He ran his calloused fingers up the flat of her stomach to the swell of her breast, cupping his hand there over the material of her bra. Lydia's breathing quickened as he traced fingers along the bottom of the cup, dipping them inside to brush against her sensitive nipple. She broke their kiss and cried out as Mac rolled the peak in between his fingers.

Lydia arched her back and pulled her shirt off the rest of the way. She moved to let Mac unhook her bra before grabbing it and throwing it from the bed to join her shirt. She caught Mac's eyes as she pushed his shirt from his shoulders, fully exposing his lean muscles. The heat she saw in his blue orbs sent a fresh wave of electricity through her groin. She ran her hands over his smooth chest and around to his back, digging in her nails and pulling him down on top of her. He pushed his erection against her leg as his mouth found hers again.

Moving her hands back around to his front and pushing him away a little, she undid his belt buckle, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Mac groaned as Lydia reached into his waistband and wrapped her hand around his hard length, gently stroking up and down. After a few moments, he pulled away, leaning down to take her breast into his mouth. Lydia cried out as Mac's teeth grazed her nipple, and he reached over to work the other with his hand.

Lydia squirmed under Mac's attention, her need for him soaking her underpants. He released her nipple, running his teeth over the peak as he pulled away. Lydia was panting as she once again pulled his head back to hers, kissing him with urgency. Mac's hand trailed over her stomach, moving to undo her belt. He unzipped her jeans and pushed his hand down into her panties, and Lydia's pulse raced even faster. He ran his rough fingers through her wet folds and circled the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex. She almost came undone at the touch.

Mac's fingers moved in circles around her clit, slowly picking up speed. Lydia's legs twitched as she felt the wonderful pressure building down low. Mac bit down on her neck, causing another moan to escape. He rotated his hand so his thumb was doing the stroking, and circled her slick opening with his fingers. Lydia's breath hitched in her throat as he slid one finger in and out, then added another.

Lydia cried out, stars dancing through her vision as her orgasm exploded through her body. Mac claimed her mouth with his as she rode out her climax, breathing her moans into himself. As the waves of pleasure subsided, Mac broke their kiss, reaching down to kick off his boots and slide his pants down, depositing everything onto the floor. Lydia rocked her hips up off the mattress as Mac slid her own pants and underwear off, pulling her boots with them and dropping everything onto the floor.

Positioning his naked body over her own, Mac gazed into Lydia's eyes, lust and need evident on his face. Lydia opened her legs in invitation, wrapping them up around his ass. He reached a hand in between their bodies, positioning himself at her opening. Placing his arms on either side of her for leverage, he slowly thrust into her.

Lydia threw her head back and gasped as Mac's cock stretched her tight opening. "Am I hurting you?" he worried breathlessly as he pulled back out.

"No," Lydia sighed with pleasure, using her legs to pull him back into her.

Mac groaned as he moved his hips back and forth, sliding slowly out and back in. Lydia couldn't believe how good he felt. She'd never had anyone fill her so completely, and was amazed at how well he fit, hitting that delicious spot inside with every thrust forward. She rocked her hips up to meet his as he began to pick up the pace, rolling his pelvis steadily forward and back.

Wrapping her hands around his back, she dug into his flesh with her fingernails, dragging them down to leave trails on his skin. Mac growled and reached around to pull a handful of hair at the base of her head, biting down on her neck again and eliciting yet another cry from Lydia's lips.

Her moans intensified as she felt another climax building low in her abdomen. "Come again for me, Lydia," he breathed into her ear. Mac sat back a little, pulling her right leg out from around himself and resting it up on his shoulder.

The combination of her name on his lips and the new angle of his thrusts sent Lydia over the edge again. "Mac!" she cried out, sinking her nails into his thighs. She rode the waves of her orgasm as his thrusts became more and more urgent, until he cried out as his own climax washed over him.

* * *

Mac lay on the bed, Lydia's head cradled against his chest. The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the slats in the wooden shack.

Lydia shivered in her sleep and Mac pulled her unzipped sleeping bag up over her naked shoulder. The wooden walls mostly protected them from the cool wind blowing through the overpass, but the air was still chilly being that it was the first week of December.

Lying there with Lydia, their nakedness pressed together under the warmth of the makeshift blanket, Mac felt something that he hadn't in a long time. As he watched Lydia sleep, her breath puffing warm air across his chest, he realized that he was happy.

But with that happiness followed a stab of guilt as his thoughts drifted to his late wife. How could he be so happy with someone else after what he'd let happen to Lucy? How could he be happy when his son was sick and waiting for a cure?

 _I'm sorry, Lucy. I'm sorry, Duncan_ , Mac thought, self-hatred taking the place of the happiness that had been there moments earlier.

Gently rolling Lydia off his chest, Mac turned away from her and waited for the storm of guilt to blow through his mind.

* * *

 **A/N: While re-reading this I noticed that I'd forgotten to address (or undress...haha) the detail of Lydia's Pip-boy. Went back and added a small line in there to fix it!**


	18. I Can't Explain

**Chapter 18**

 **I Can't Explain**

" _You know I can't explain_

 _I'm going out of my mind_

 _Well I'm a worried guy_

 _But I can't explain"_

 **I Can't Explain** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

MacCready inhaled the last bit of smoke from his cigarette before flicking the butt out across the pavement. He stood up from where he'd been seated on the steps of the Gunner's shack, heading back inside.

Lydia still slept on the bed they'd had sex in that morning, but she was beginning to stir. Mac picked up his pack from the floor and shrugged it on. He glanced at the two rifles leaning side-by-side against the wall. One newer, modified by Lydia for their fight with the Gunners. The other, his old rifle that had been recovered from Sinclair. Grabbing his old rifle, he swung it over his shoulder by its strap, leaving the shinier one behind.

Mac sat in a chair across from the bed. He'd at least wait for Lydia to wake up to tell her that he was leaving. He owed her that much after she'd helped him take out Winlock's group.

After spending the day alone with his thoughts, Mac had come to a decision. He needed to move on. He'd spent enough time neglecting his mission. After splitting up the loot from the Gunner camp, Mac had more than made back the caps he'd lost to Sinclair. It was time for him to move on and take care of his own family. What little there was left of it, anyway.

Lydia yawned and Mac's attention was pulled back to her. She stretched across the bed, pushing the sleeping bag down in the process and revealing her naked breasts. Mac looked away as he recalled the things he'd done with her just hours before. Shame filled him, and he ignored the stab of pain he felt in his chest at the thought of leaving her behind.

 _She's distracting you_ , he reminded himself. Now that he had the caps to hire someone, he needed to get on with going to Med-Tek and getting Duncan's cure. And Lydia had her own son to worry about, anyway.

That was another reason that Mac had decided to take himself out of the equation. He couldn't let himself and his issues get in the way of her bigger picture, either.

His feelings for Lydia were already too intense. Mac had only known her a little over a week. It pained him to realize that he'd never felt as strongly for Lucy as he did for Lydia. The guilt he had over the feelings he'd developed for another woman weighed heavily on his heart. It was like a desecration of Lucy's memory in his mind and it was too much for him to handle.

 _This is for the best_ , he told himself as Lydia opened her eyes. She smiled at him, eyes full of warmth, and Mac hated himself even more.

* * *

Lydia stretched out on the bed, kicking the sleeping bag off and letting the cool air touch her naked skin. Her nipples tightened in response to the chill and she winked at Mac. "Ready for round two?"

Averting his gaze, Mac looked down at the floor. "Um...actually I was thinking," he paused, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I feel like it's time for us to go our separate ways."

Lydia felt like she'd been slapped. She tried to keep the shock from registering on her face, but knew that she wasn't succeeding. "Uh...okay," she managed to choke out quietly. She reached behind her and pulled the makeshift blanket back across her body, moving to sit up on the edge of the bed.

Mac glanced up to her for a brief second before returning his gaze to the floor in front of him. "I appreciate you helping me take out the Gunners. More than I can say. It's just, you have your own sh-stuff to get done. And so do I."

Standing from his chair, Mac crossed the room and held out a small ammo bag to Lydia. "Here. I want to replace the caps you gave me when you hired me back in Goodneighbor. As a thank you for helping me."

Anger bloomed in Lydia's chest, creeping up to darken her face. Whether he meant for the caps to be a thank you for her help or not, it made her feel like a prostitute after what they'd done earlier. She stood to face Mac, pulling the sleeping bag up around herself. "What do you take me for, anyway?!" she yelled. She stormed past the merc, moving to pick up her clothes from the ground where they'd fallen that morning. "Keep your goddamn money."

It was Mac's turn to look shocked. "What the hell is your problem?!" he yelled back.

"What's my problem?!" she whirled to face him. "My problem is that you sleep with me this morning and then try to give me money! Do you know how that feels? 'Thanks for the fuck, babe, here's your tip'."

Mac softened. "Oh shit. Lydia, I didn't mean-"

"Save it," she interrupted. "Just keep your money. Good luck on whatever you're going to do," she finished, averting her eyes to the ground.

MacCready went to the door, turning back to Lydia before he stepped through. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Goodbye, Mac," she returned, still not looking at him.

He disappeared through the door. Lydia listened to him walk across the pavement. She waited for the sound of the lift to start up and descend before she allowed her tears to fall.

* * *

Mac stepped off the lift and headed east for Bunker Hill. He figured that was the best place to get a line on another merc for hire.

His heart grew heavier with each step he took away from the interchange. He'd expected to be relieved after walking away from Lydia, but all he felt was grief.

The weight of all his crappy decisions, all the pain he'd caused others, closed around Mac's heart like a vice. For a moment he couldn't breathe. He stopped walking, leaning over with his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. Bringing Duncan's face to mind, he focused on his son and forced himself to take deep breaths in through his nose.

When he was able to breathe again, Mac stood and continued away from the overpass. With Duncan's face still in the forefront of his thoughts, he continued on toward Bunker Hill.

* * *

Having redressed and gathered up her things, Lydia took one last sidelong glance at the bed she'd shared with Mac that morning. She felt so betrayed by him leaving. Sure, she knew that he didn't owe her anything, and wasn't inclined to stay if he didn't want to. But she'd gotten used to having him around, and had thought (hoped) that the feelings she'd grown for him were reciprocated.

 _He got what he wanted from me and left,_ she thought.

Lydia was surprised at the tremendous sense of loss that filled her then. The hole she'd felt within her since Shaun's kidnapping was becoming larger, and she wondered if it would eventually swallow her up. Tears brimmed her eyes again, and she quickly blinked them away.

 _Forget about him,_ she told herself. _I have my own shit to do. I have to find Shaun._

Picking up the rifle she'd bought and modified for Mac (and ignoring the sting she felt at him having left it behind), she exited the shack and went to the lift.

As she waited for the elevator to ascend, she went over her mental to-do list. First she had to go back through Concord and grab the power armor she'd used to help that guy Preston finish off those raiders. She'd need to repair it, and probably coat it in lead as well to help protect against the radiation. Then she'd need to collect enough fusion cores to power the thing.

Lydia took a deep breath and let out a loud sigh. By the time she got all that stuff in order, it would probably be another few weeks, at least, until she could even hope to step foot into the glowing sea.

Finally the lift came to a stop at the metal steps. On the floor of it sat the bag of caps that Mac had tried to give to Lydia. She shook her head and leaned to grab it before righting herself on the elevator and pressing the button to take her down.

* * *

 **Author's Note:  
**

 **Sorry, guys. It can't all be sunshine and rainbows, though!**


	19. Lucy Can't Dance

**Chapter 19**

 **Lucy Can't Dance**

" _Or this shallow orb_

 _Mugged by reality_

 _Just a few simple words like_

 _I love you_

 _I need you_

 _Live and you die in the blink of an eye_

 _Still I can't make you dance_

 _Dance to the noise_

 _Lucy can't dance_

 _But she knows what the noise can do"_

 **Lucy Can't Dance** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia grabbed the handle at the shoulder of her power armor and pulled herself up into the metal casing. She despised wearing the hulking armor, but it was the only thing that was going keep her alive out in the Glowing Sea. And as much as she feared heading into ground zero, she needed to find the escaped Institute scientist. He was the only one who could possibly provide answers to the Institute's whereabouts, thus the only lead she had that could take her to Shaun.

As the armor closed itself around her, Lydia moved the metal head to glance at Nick. "You ready?" she asked her most recent companion through the speaker in the helmet.

Nick's yellow eyes flicked to Lydia. "Let's get this show on the road."

As Lydia and Nick neared the gates of Sanctuary, Preston Garvey waved at them from his post up on the guard tower. He made a "wait" motion with his hand and descended the stairs.

Lydia rolled her eyes, thankful for the mask that covered her face. After stomping into Sanctuary Hills nearly three weeks ago in the power armor she'd reacquired from the museum in Concord, she'd met up again with Preston and his (un)merry band of settlers. She'd helped them out of a jam her first week out in the Wasteland, and they'd since made it to Sanctuary Hills (now known simply as "Sanctuary") as their chosen place to start a new settlement.

It was ironic to Lydia that the place these people saw as a Sanctuary now had felt like a prison to her all those years ago, when she'd lived there before the war.

Since she'd needed help repairing her armor, and since she was going to have to run quite a few errands to build a stockpile of fusion cores anyway, she'd agreed to help Preston in his quest to rebuild the Minutemen. Lydia had trekked all over the Commonwealth in the past few weeks, clearing spots for new settlements and helping existing ones in order to recruit more people for Preston's cause. While she'd been out playing the hero and gathering materials, Sanctuary's resident handyman, Sturges, had made most of the repairs to Lydia's armor.

It was a fairly decent trade-off, and Lydia didn't mind helping out when she could. But she'd been less than thrilled when she'd come back from one of Preston's errands and he'd announced her as the Minutemen's new General. After a lengthy conversation with the man where she'd repeatedly refused, and he'd repeatedly insisted, she finally gave in and accepted in order to shut him up.

"General, I'm glad I caught you," Preston said, coming to a stop in front of Lydia. "I've got another settlement-"

"No, Preston," Lydia interrupted firmly. "I may be able to help out later on but right now I'm busy."

"But the settlers-"

"Are capable people who survived this long in the Wasteland," she once again interrupted. "I can't spend all my time holding their hands. I have my own shit to handle too, Preston."

Lydia could see the anger on his face, but he relented. "Fine, I'll have someone else look into it. Be safe out there, General," he said before turning back to his guard post.

Moving south toward the Glowing Sea, Lydia knew she'd have to pass by Mass Pike, the last place she'd seen Mac. She'd gone over the journey on her Pip-boy map many times, trying hard to avoid the overpass, but it was ultimately the fastest way to get to where she needed. She couldn't afford to make any sort of arc around it, needing to be as thrifty as possible with her fusion cores.

Lydia told herself that Mac leaving didn't bother her, that she was fine without him and that she needed to concentrate on rescuing Shaun. But when she lay down to sleep at night, when it was quiet and she didn't have the luxury of errands or armor repairs to keep her mind busy, she saw his face. His blue eyes haunted her dreams and she hated him for it.

Or that's what she told herself, anyway. Lydia harbored strong feelings for Mac, she just wasn't always sure what those feelings were. She didn't know whether she wanted to kiss him or knock that irresistible smirk from his face. The bag of caps he'd left for her that last day they'd seen each other always sat at the bottom of her pack. She wasn't sure if she kept them there as a reminder, or so she could throw them in his face if she ever saw him again.

As the sun moved across the sky and morning became afternoon, Lydia and Nick neared the interchange. Her heart beat faster the closer they got, the ache in her chest becoming more and more painful. She tried her best but couldn't stop the images that flashed through her mind of herself and Mac in the Gunner's shack. The way he'd touched her, the desire that had shone through his blue irises. The more she tried to force the scenes away, the more they played through her mind.

Lydia picked up the heavy feet of her power armor and began to run. She ran past the overpass and kept running until sweat poured down her face inside her helmet, her lungs burning and muscles cramping. But as far as she could run, she couldn't outrun the memories of Mac.

Finally she came to a stop, heaving for breath as she pulled the release lever on the inside of the armor. Cool air poured in as the back of the armor opened and Lydia all but fell out onto the ground. She dropped onto her back and closed her eyes, panting in the cold air of late December, and waited for her pulse to slow to a normal pace.

She heard Nick come up and stand beside her, but waited until her breathing was somewhere closer to normal before opening her eyes and looking over at him. He stared down at her, a mechanical eyebrow cocked in question.

"I'm fine," she answered before he could ask. "Just...trying to outrun some demons."

"Ah," the detective said. "Did you?"

"Not even close."

Nick reached out a metal hand to help Lydia stand. "You want me to drive for awhile?" he asked, gesturing to the suit of power armor.

She nodded. "Yes, please."

When Nick was situated in the large armor, Lydia began moving again. Her plan was to make it as far as they could before dark, then find someplace to camp out for the night. By the same time the next day, they'd be knee-deep in radiation and who knew what else. Lydia's fear mounted as they grew closer to the Glowing Sea, but she used it to push her forward. She'd soon be another step closer to her son.

* * *

MacCready threw back another tumbler of whiskey and pounded the glass down onto the bar. "Keep 'em comin', Joe," he told the bartender.

Joe Savoldi eyed Mac as he refilled the merc's glass. "You finished that whole bottle to yourself there, Mac."

"Yeah well, I've had a sh-crappy week," Mac remarked, lifting the newly refilled glass to his lips and finishing it off in a couple swallows. He pushed the cup back across the counter to Joe, motioning him to refill it again. Joe unscrewed the cap from a new bottle and went to pour Mac another drink. "Fu-Screw it, Joe. Just give me the damn bottle," Mac said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a generous pile of caps, setting them down onto the bar. "I'll need a room, too."

"First door on the left," Joe pointed to the wooden stairs leading up to the rooms. "Don't you puke in that room. Tony will have your hide," he added, referring to his son who ran the room rental portion of their little establishment.

Mac waved off the other man's concern. "I haven't thrown up from drinking since I was twelve," he assured. He grabbed his things and the bottle of whiskey and headed for the stairs.

"Room" was a generous definition of the rental beds at Savoldi's. Mac pushed aside the curtain that acted as the room's door, setting his bag and rifle down at the foot of the bed. The bed was the only piece of furniture the room offered, and that was just a dirty mattress set on the floor against one plywood wall with a large hole cut into the middle.

 _At least there's a window_ , Mac thought as he plopped himself down onto the stained bed. Leaning up against the flimsy wall, Mac kicked off his boots and took a swig from his bottle.

Mac drank his whiskey, reflecting on the shit-pile his life had become in the past few weeks. After leaving Lydia alone on the overpass, he'd come here to Bunker Hill to search out another mercenary to go with him to Med-Tek. He'd found one after a few days of waiting. The man had been crazy looking, wired with energy and obviously hopped up. But Mac figured that at the very least, he'd have someone to distract the ghouls while he crept through and found the cure.

They'd made it to the parking lot before the junkie had been taken down. Mac had taken out the roaming ferals before going to the guy's body and looting what had been left of the money (five whole caps) he'd paid the man. Mac had been smart, though, only paying him a portion up front, so he hadn't lost too much.

It was another two weeks before he'd found someone else. Mac had been more confident in the newer guy. A behemoth of a man that carried an assault rifle and machete, Mac figured that the guy would mow through the ghouls no problem. Again, he'd been wrong. That time he'd made it inside to the executive's terminal. While he'd been busy trying to hack the thing (he'd always been shit with computers) the behemoth man had been taken down when a ghoul fell onto him from a large hole in the ceiling. The feral had managed to tear a chunk out the Behemoth's neck before the larger man even had a chance to react. Mac had taken the ghoul out, but not before Behemoth crashed to the floor, bleeding out through his jugular. There'd been no saving the giant, even if Mac had felt like using his own Stimpacks on the man.

After Behemoth had gone down, another half-dozen ferals had come out of hiding and attacked. Mac had managed to kill them off, but he'd literally crawled away from Med-Tek to one of the outlying buildings. He'd spent three days there, mending himself and recovering. He'd just made it back to Bunker Hill that day, feeling worthless and discouraged.

Taking another long drink from the bottle, Mac set it aside and pulled his smokes from the pocket of his duster. He lit one, getting lost in the flame from his lighter as he remembered the way Lydia had stared into the fire the night before they'd infiltrated the overpass. She'd finally spilled her secrets to him, and then helped him finish his fight with the Gunners, and what had he done? Basically made her feel like a whore and walked away.

"You're an asshole," Mac told himself. He took a drag of his cigarette and extinguished the flame of his lighter.

Mac had spent the past three weeks since leaving Lydia in a constant shame-spiral. During the days he went out, looking for extra work or things he could sell, and at night he drank. Every night he tried to drink away the image of Lydia from his mind, trying to force his brain to replace Lydia's hazel eyes with Lucy's sky blue ones.

Mac had loved Lucy, and knew he always would, but he'd never felt as intensely for her as he did for the dark-haired woman who'd hired him down in The Third Rail. He felt like the guilt he held in his heart over Lucy's death, and then over replacing his late wife with Lydia, was slowly killing him.

His inability to get the cure for Duncan also weighed heavily on his mind. Three times he'd been to the research facility, and three times he'd failed to even access the lower levels where the cure was located. Mac's ineptitude was killing his son, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Mac tossed his spent cigarette out the room's window and set aside the bottle of whiskey. He layed back on the dirty mattress, the effects of the alcohol in his system making his eyelids heavy. As it did every night, no matter how hard he tried to keep the visions away, his mind began to replay Lucy's death.

He heard her cries of pain as the ferals tore into her flesh. He heard Duncan's terrified infant wails, inconsolable as Mac fired his rifle one-handed into the horde of ghouls. He heard Lucy screaming for him to take Duncan and run, and then her silence as the ghouls closed in further. He heard the sounds of his own boots heavily retreating down the tunnels, running away with his son as he left his wife to her fate.

Mac felt his stomach turn and shot up from the bed, barely making it to the window before he lost the liquid contents of his stomach onto the ground below. After he finished, he went to his pack and pulled out a can of purified water. He took a sip, swishing the water around in his mouth and spitting it out the window. He lay back down on the mattress, head swimming with his negative emotions.

Finally managing to pass out as the low light of dawn began to enter the room, the last thing he saw in his mind before the darkness closed in were Lydia's hazel eyes.


	20. Shapes of Things

**Chapter 20**

 **Shapes of Things**

" _Come tomorrow_

 _Will I be older_

 _Come tomorrow_

 _Maybe a soldier_

 _Come tomorrow_

 _May I be bolder than today_

 _Soon I hope that I will find_

 _A seed within my mind_

 _That won't disgrace my kind"_

 **Shapes of Things** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

"Fuck!" Lydia screamed as the courser she'd been fighting teleported from the street in a flash of blue, the crack of electricity following. She threw her pistol to the ground where it skidded to a stop under a car. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she swore, kicking over a trash can. "That was the second one! I'm never going to get that chip!"

Lydia had spent the past two weeks since leaving the Glowing Sea hunting down an Institute courser, as per the instructions she'd received from Brian Virgil. The escaped scientist had told her that coursers all had chips implanted into their synthetic brains that allowed them to teleport into, and out of, the fortress. She'd need to find a courser and remove the chip, then find someone to decode it, in order to have any hope of getting in.

She'd managed to track down two different ones within the past couple weeks with the help of a classical music radio station, which acted as a frequency for courser teleportation (all the technical shit was giving Lydia a major headache), but both had escaped before she'd hardly gotten off any shots.

Lydia's new friend, Cait, stepped up beside her, shoving her gun into the holster on her leg. Her left arm hung limp at her side. "Bastard threw me into the wall," she motioned behind her to a brick building. "I can't move my fuckin' arm," she finished in her lilting Irish accent.

"Hold still," Lydia instructed. Looking over Cait's injured arm, she could tell that the woman's shoulder had slipped from its socket. Grabbing her shoulder with one hand and her upper arm with the other, Lydia popped Cait's arm back into place.

Cait screamed in pain. "Fuck! Jesus Christ, you could've warned me, at least!" she yelled, rotating her fixed joint.

Lydia smiled at the other woman's annoyance. Even though she was a little rough-around-the-edges, Lydia liked Cait and they'd become fast friends. She'd recently rescued the Irish woman from a fight club where she'd been made to battle men in a cage in exchange for the chems she was addicted to. Cait was a little worse for the wear, and Lydia wasn't thrilled by her drug habit, but Cait could hold her own and was an excellent fighter.

 _But not as good as Mac_ , Lydia thought. She again started an internal battle with herself about whether or not she should go looking for him. She couldn't help wondering if she'd already have the chip she needed if only Mac was still with her.

She'd even made a stop in Goodneighbor the week before, half hoping to find him holed back up the The Third Rail. But he wasn't there, and Lydia was embarrassed by how devastated she'd been at his absence. Stopping by Daisy's shop on the way out of town, the ghoul had not-so-subtly informed Lydia that MacCready hadn't been back since the last time the pair had been there together, and where the hell was RJ anyway?

After explaining that they'd parted on not-so-great terms (but omitting the bit about the life-altering sex), Lydia related to Daisy what Mac had said about having his own things to take care of, to which the ghoul had rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. She'd told Lydia that when (not _if_ but _when_ , Lydia had noticed the distinction) she saw Mac again, she needed to ask him about Med-Tek.

When questioned further, Daisy would only say that it wasn't her story to tell, just that she needed to ask Mac. Lydia had contemplated going out to the research facility to see if she could find him, but kept finding reasons not to go.

"Earth to Lydia!" Cait called, snapping her fingers in Lydia's face and pulling her from her thoughts. "Why the long face? Still thinkin' 'bout your blue-eyed boy?"

"No," Lydia lied, going to retrieve her gun from under the car where she'd thrown it.

"Sure you're not," Cait prodded, following her friend. "Hell, I would be if I were you. Haven't had me-self a good lay in quite a while. Blowin' some guy in the bathroom of The Combat Zone for a hit of Jet ain't exactly romantic."

Sighing, Lydia kneeled down to reach under the car. "Yeah well, having incredible sex and then trying to be bought off later on isn't exactly my idea of romance, either."

"Sounds plenty romantic me. From what you've said about his sharp-shootin' skills, it might be pretty handy to have him along. We could especially use his help to take down one of those evasive Institute bastards," Cait persisted.

Lydia grabbed her pistol and stood to face Cait, holstering her weapon and brushing the dirt from her knees. "Yeah, he's pretty handy with his gun," she said absently.

"That's what _she_ said," Cait winked.

"Come on," Lydia rolled her eyes, turning to leave the alley where they'd caught up with the courser. "I have to track down another one of those assholes."

"Do you think those things even have assholes?" Cait snickered and Lydia couldn't help but laugh.

As the friends walked away from the alley, Lydia knew that Cait was right. It was the same thing she'd been thinking for the past week, anyway. Mixed as her feelings were about the merc, she knew he was her best hope of taking down a courser.

She needed to find Mac.

* * *

Mac awoke to the sting of a needle in his arm. He tried to sit up but was pushed forcefully back down onto his back. "What the f-"

"Watch your mouth, RJ," came a raspy voice from his side.

Mac looked over to see Daisy sitting next to him, pulling a syringe from his arm, which she then set onto the bedside table. He glanced around the unfamiliar room. "Where am I? And what did you stick me with?" he asked the ghoul.

"You're in my room above the shop. And I gave you addictol. Do you remember anything that happened last night?" she asked, sitting back in the chair and crossing her arms.

Mac racked his brain. "I went to the bar. Ordered a few drinks…"

"It was more than a few," Daisy told him. "You were so far gone that you slugged poor Charlie when he tried to cut you off," she explained. "Hancock wanted to give you the boot, let you sleep it off outside the city gate. You're damn lucky I was around and able to talk him out of it."

Mac sat up in the bed, putting his head into his hands. "I'm sorry, Daisy."

"You wanna tell me what the hell is going on with you?" she demanded. "You've been sulking around town drunker than a skunk since you got back. I saw that pretty girl who hired you, you know. She came through here a couple days before you got back. She told me how you left things with her. Why the hell didn't you just ask her to help you out? I assume you had no luck trying to get that cure on your own."

Sighing, Mac sat up straight to look at the ghoul. He felt himself coming unravelled. He couldn't keep everything inside anymore. He opened his mouth and spilled the whole story to Daisy. The way Lydia made him feel, how good they'd been together, and then the guilt he felt toward Lucy and Duncan for having those happy feelings at all. He told her about his failed trips to Med-Tek. He also told her about his drinking, how in the past five weeks since he'd left Lydia he'd gone from having a couple glasses a night to a couple bottles. The dreams, the responsibilities, the addiction. He laid it all out for Daisy to see, growing more and more ashamed of himself with every word. When he'd finished, Daisy was silent for a while.

Finally she spoke up. "Robert Joseph MacCready, I'm disappointed in you. You're a mess, kid."

Mac looked down at his hands where they sat in his lap. "I know," he said quietly.

"And you're an idiot," she added. Mac just nodded. Daisy reached over and took Mac's hands in her own, withered ones. He looked up into her black eyes as she spoke to him. "I know you miss Lucy. She was your first love and her death was a terrible accident. But that's just what it was. An _accident_. You can't keep blaming yourself for something that happened years ago. It's killing you, and it's killing your son."

Mac nodded, looking away as tears blurred his vision. But Daisy continued. "What happened to Duncan wasn't your fault, either. That guilt you're carrying around is eating you alive.

"And that girl? Lydia?" Daisy dropped Mac's hand and leaned over, smacking him upside his head.

"Damn, Daisy!" Mac yelled.

The ghoul sat back in her chair and crossed her arms again. "You're even dumber than I thought. You _found_ someone. And a pretty girl, at that. How many people get a chance at happiness out here in this wasteland? And you sent her away?! Not to mention that she's probably the only person you've met that's capable of helping you get into Med-Tek!"

Mac said nothing, just hung his head. Daisy hadn't told him anything he didn't know deep down, but hearing it from someone else was different.

"Do you really think that Lucy would want you to mope around for the rest of your life?" Daisy continued, her tone softer. "Do you think she'd want you passing up the chance to be happy again?"

Mac realized that he knew the answer. Lucy had been the most kind, caring person he'd ever known. Of course she wouldn't want him spending the rest of his life punishing himself for her death, and neglecting his responsibilities to their son in the process.

 _Damn,_ Mac thought. _I_ am _an idiot._

It wouldn't be that simple to forgive himself, and Mac knew it. But he did know that he was a lot closer now than he'd ever been.

Daisy stood from her chair and went to the closet on the other side of the room. She grabbed a few items of clothing and a towel, dropping them onto the bed at Mac's feet. "My bathroom is in there," she pointed behind her to an open door. "Go wash yourself, you smell like whiskey and puke. Actually you might wanna get into the tub just like that. When was the last time you washed those clothes, anyway?" but she didn't give him time to respond, leaving the room and heading down the stairs.

Mac did as he was told. After bathing himself, he washed his clothes in the tub and hung them to dry on the towel racks, then dressed in the clean jeans and flannel Daisy had given him. As he stood at the mirror combing his hair, he made a new goal for himself:

Find Lydia, apologize like crazy, and ask for help.

* * *

 **Author's Note:  
**

 **Yes, they'll be reunited in the next chapter!**


	21. Width of a Circle

**Author's Note:**

 **Here you go guys. I tried to post this a few hours ago but the site was having problems. But it's here now! The reunion!**

* * *

 **Chapter 21**

 **Width of a Circle**

" _And I was seething_

 _Breathing deeply_

 _Spitting sentry_

 _Horned and tailed_

 _Waiting for you"_

 **Width of a Circle** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Mac once again sat in his old chair in the back room of The Third Rail. He sipped his bottle of Nuka-Cola, wishing that there were a little rum in the soda. Although the addictol that Daisy had dosed him with had taken care of his physiological alcohol addiction, it couldn't erase the psychological need.

But Mac knew he wouldn't go back. Maybe at some point he'd be able to have a drink without needing another, and another, and another...but for now, he was sober.

After waking up from his drunken stupor three days earlier, and getting a reality check from Daisy, the ghoul had made Mac promise to stick around town and wait for Lydia to return. He'd tried to go out looking for her but Daisy had a "feeling" that she'd be back soon. Mac didn't know where Daisy got her information from, but she was usually right.

And so, he waited. Mac sat in the bar during the day, nursing Nuka-Cola and water, waiting for Lydia. At night, he'd go back to his room at the Rexford for sleep, then return in the morning and begin the cycle again.

All the waiting around (and sobriety) had given Mac's brain plenty of time to begin processing his emotions. Daisy had helped to open his eyes when she'd spoken bluntly to him about Lucy and Lydia, and he realized what a moron he'd been. He still loved Lucy, still saw her face in his mind's eye, but he was having an easier time accepting that it was alright for him to love someone else. Mac wasn't sure that he _loved_ Lydia, he'd only known her for a week after all, but his mind was opening up to the possibility and it didn't cause a flood of guilt (just a small trickle) in him when he thought about moving on from Lucy.

In spite of the yearn for a drink, Mac was feeling much better than he had in the past month. Now he just had to sort out his feelings for his former boss...and hope that she showed up soon.

* * *

Lydia and Cait entered Goodneighbor shortly after dark. Cait made a bee-line for the bar, leaving Lydia behind to do her trading with Daisy.

"I'll be at the pub when you're done!" Cait called over her shoulder as she walked away.

Daisy looked up from her magazine as Lydia neared the counter of her shop.

"Hey there, gorgeous," she rasped. "What can I do you for?"

Lydia set her bag down onto the counter and pulled out boxes of ammo she'd collected that were the wrong caliber for either of her guns. "Can we make a trade? This stuff for whatever's the equal amount of 10mm and .50 cal?"

"Sure thing, doll," Daisy said, reaching under the counter to grab the correct ammo. "So what have you been up to?"

"Trying to track and take down an Institute courser," Lydia replied.

Daisy's black eyes widened. "What do you need with one of those?"

Lydia sighed and shook her head. "It's a long story. I've had shit for luck, anyway."

"Well you know, rumor has it that there's a good-looking young mercenary for hire down in The Third Rail," Daisy winked. "He's a pretty good shot, I've heard."

Lydia's heart froze in her chest. Although she'd recently come to the conclusion that she would need Mac's help to take down the courser, she was still incredibly nervous about seeing him again. "He's back?" she asked quietly.

Daisy nodded. "And I hear he's had no luck with _his_ personal mission, either. Maybe you two could work out a deal?"

Lydia smiled at the ghoul's not-so-subtle hint. "Do you pull the strings of all the puppets in the Commonwealth, or just in Goodneighbor?" she teased the woman.

"I've got connections," Daisy shrugged. "You don't live to be over two-hundred-fifty years old without knowing a thing or two."

Lydia slid the ammo into her bag and tied it closed before swinging it onto her shoulder. "Thanks, Daisy. For everything."

Daisy winked at Lydia. "Let me tell you something before you go," she said. She came out from around the counter and put a hand on Lydia's shoulder. "Take it easy on RJ. He may be an ass sometimes but he means well. He's had a rough go of it. Had to deal with a lot from a young age. I'm not making excuses for him, doll, just wanted to tell you this: he's one of the good ones."

Daisy squeezed Lydia's shoulder before letting go and making her way back to her post behind the counter.

Leaving Daisy's shop behind, Lydia made her way down the alley toward the bar, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

* * *

Yawning, Mac stretched out in his chair. He was getting tired. He knew he should head over to the Rex and try to get some sleep, but he was feeling comfortable in the armchair and wasn't quite ready to move yet. Listening to Magnolia's smooth voice drifting in from the main room, Mac's eyelids slowly descended as he began to fall asleep.

Suddenly, something pelted him in the chest and he bolted up from his reclining position with a start. Whatever had hit him rolled down his legs onto the floor. Mac bent to pick up the offending item, confusion of his face before he realized what it was. The ammo bag of caps he'd given Lydia after they'd taken out the Gunners.

"I hear you're pretty handy with a rifle," a familiar voice said. Mac's eyes shot up to see Lydia leaning against the wall in front of him and he couldn't help the way the corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile.

Mac opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He'd spent a lot of time over the past few days contemplating what he'd say to Lydia when he saw her again, but as she stood there in front of him, hazel eyes boring into his, he found himself at a loss for words. The picture he'd held of Lydia in his mind over their separation was nothing compared to being face-to-face with her beauty and he was left speechless.

He sat there trying to think of something to say, forcing himself to breathe around the emotions swirling for purchase in his brain. But Lydia broke the silence for him. "I was told to ask you about Med-Tek."

Mac nodded. He trusted Daisy not to give away his secrets, but apparently she was giving him the push to do it himself.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" he asked. Lydia raised an eyebrow and Mac couldn't help the slight blush that colored his cheeks at the memory of the last time they'd been alone together. In an attempt to cover his discomfort, he rolled his eyes. "To talk," he explained.

"Fine," she said, pushing off from the wall. She gestured to the door for Mac to lead the way.

Mac stood from his chair, leading Lydia through the door. She stopped him with a hand on his arm before he reached the stairs.

"Just a minute," she said before turning and going over to the bar. She stopped to talk with a rough-looking redheaded woman who sat perched on a stool at the counter. Mac saw Lydia motion over her shoulder to him, the other woman not-so-subtly leaning around Lydia to check him out. The redhead's mouth formed an 'O' shape as she sat up straight and elbowed Lydia.

Mac couldn't hear what had been said between the two. But as Lydia turned around to walk back to him, he saw a flush on her cheeks. Smiling, he wondered if she was also thinking about their excursion in the Gunners shack. He turned and started up the stairs.

"Who was that?" he asked as they walked down the street toward the Rex.

"Cait. She's been travelling with me for about a week now. A little rough-around-the-edges, but she knows how to fight. Plus, I needed a new pack mule after you took off," Lydia replied.

Mac tried to ignore the sting of the barb, but it did bother him. He knew he'd made a mistake with Lydia, knew he'd hurt her feelings, and he had no idea how to begin to fix it. He just hoped that whatever relationship they'd had before was somewhat salvageable.

Once they'd reached his room at the Rexford, Mac gestured for Lydia to sit on the couch as he closed the door. It wasn't the same room that they'd shared the first night she'd hired him, but the sense of deja-vu was there regardless.

Taking a seat on the bed, he pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one, then offered the pack to Lydia. She accepted and lit her own before returning the pack. He took a long drag, blowing smoke out through his nose.

"I've gone over this conversation in my head so many times, but I never did figure out the best way to actually start it," he sighed. Removing the hat from his head with the hand not holding his cigarette, he set the cap down on the bed next to him and ran his fingers through his hair. "So, I guess I'll just dive right in.

"When I left the Capital Wasteland, I...I left my family behind. I have...a son."

* * *

Lydia's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

 _He has a son?_

Of all the things she'd possibly imagined Mac would have to say to her, that he had a son of his own hadn't even crossed her mind.

"I...don't know what to say," Lydia said, her brain still trying to process the new information.

"Sure you do," Mac said bitterly. He stood up from the bed, pacing the room as he spoke, cigarette smoke trailing behind him. "You want to tell me how cruel it was to leave him behind. How I'm a terrible father. You wouldn't be telling me anything I didn't already know, anyway."

Lydia was taken aback by the tone of Mac's voice. She'd never heard him speak so negatively of himself. She said nothing, just waited for him to go on.

Mac stopped in his pacing and again took his seat on the bed. "My son, Duncan, he's...sick. I-I don't know what's wrong with him. One day he's playing out in the fields behind our farm, the next he took a fever and these...blue boils...popped up all over his little body." Mac paused to hit his cigarette. "Last I saw him, he was too weak to walk. I couldn't bring him with me. It's been almost a year since I've seen him now. I don't know how much longer he has, honestly."

Although he wouldn't look at her, Lydia could see the hurt in his eyes. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to go to him, to take away that pain. But she did nothing, forcing herself to stay seated, instead asking the question that came to mind. "Is that where Med-Tek comes in?" Lydia ventured a guess.

Mac nodded. "Yeah. If you're willing, I could... _really_ use your help. I heard about a cure that's supposed to be there, down in the sublevels of the place. The problem is that the whole building is infested with ferals. I've been there three times now, once alone and twice with guys I hired who ended up being completely fu-friggin useless. We never even made it past overriding the lock-down codes to get to the lower levels. I can't do it alone," he finished quietly.

Lydia felt conflicting emotions rising in her. She understood his burden and the pain he must carry because of it. But she was also mad. In spite of what Daisy had said to her about taking it easy on Mac, she couldn't help herself.

"Jesus, Mac!" Lydia yelled. She got up from the couch and went to stand in front of him. "You know when would have been a good time to tell me this?! When I was spilling my guts to you about _my_ shit! I mean...fuck! You knew how hard it was for me to tell you all that! And you were, what...too _proud_ to say anything? Your son's life is on the line! Why the fuck didn't you ask me to help you? Didn't you think I'd want to?! Especially after finding out about Shaun!"

"Of course I knew you'd help!" Mac yelled back, standing to face Lydia. "That's why I couldn't ask! How selfish would that have been?! Pulling you away from finding _your_ son to help _mine_?!" Mac sighed and shook his head. "I just couldn't do it. You'd already done so much for me by helping me take out the Gunners. I didn't feel like I had the right to ask you for anything more."

Lydia softened a little at that. She could see his point, but she was still upset that he hadn't asked for her help before. "Well, you're in luck," she told him. "It turns out that I need your help as well. I have to track down an Institute courser in order to get a chip from its head that'll give me information about getting into the place. The problem is that those things can teleport, and they keep getting away before I can even get close." Going back over to the couch, Lydia flopped down and took her seat. "So when you do get the cure, you have to take it back to the Capital?" she asked.

"No," Mac replied, sitting back down on the bed. "Daisy has caravan contacts. They'll be able to get it there faster than I could."

Lydia nodded, biting her lip in thought. "Here's what we'll do then," she said after a few moments. "We'll go to Med-Tek, get Duncan's cure and bring it back to Daisy. Then you go with me and help me take down a courser. No caps, just a trade. I'll help you, then you'll help me."

"Alright," Mac agreed. "That's fair."

Lydia stood to leave, but stopped with her hand on the doorknob. "This is just a business transaction, though," she said, turning partly back to Mac but not looking at him directly. "After this, we go our separate ways. You were right, before. We each have our own things to do. Our own families to take care of."

She paused, not wanting to say the next part. She didn't believe it, not really, but still felt it needed to be said. She couldn't look at his face though, afraid she wouldn't be able to say what was necessary if she looked into his blue eyes and saw any hint of pain. "We can't afford any distractions."

In her peripheral vision she saw Mac nod his head once. "Understood," he said quietly.

Lydia didn't know if she heard hurt in his voice or if she was just reflecting her own, but it took all her willpower not to run to him and fold him into her arms. "Meet me by the gate at dawn. We'll head out for Med-Tek then," she said quickly. She didn't wait for Mac to respond, forcing herself to open the door and leave before she lost what little composure she still had.


	22. Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

 **I was able to get this one written up while I was waiting for the site to fix their issues, so here you go again! Back-to-back chapters for you!**

 **And I did it again, by the way. When I started this one, I meant for it to be them going into Med-Tek, but apparently Lydia and Mac had some things to work out with each other beforehand!**

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

 **Sorrow**

" _I tried to find her_

 _Cause I can't resist her_

 _I never knew how much I missed her_

 _Sorrow_

 _Sorrow"_

 **Sorrow** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

MacCready lined up his shot and fired, the feral he'd had in his cross hairs falling to the pavement. He noticed a blur of movement from the corner of his eye, but heard the pop from Lydia's own suppressed rifle before he'd even focused on the second ghoul.

"Nice one," Cait said to Lydia appreciatively in her Irish accent. "I'm shite with long-range."

 _So I've noticed_ , Mac thought, rolling his eyes. He really couldn't stand Cait and didn't understand why Lydia had insisted that she come along. She was good with hand-to-hand combat but awful with a gun, preferring to get right up into the action. Her style was so different from Lydia's (and his own) quiet stealth approach that he honestly couldn't see whatever it was that Lydia thought the other woman brought to the table. Not to mention Cait's chem addiction. He felt like she was more of a liability than a help, stoned as she was most of the time, but he kept his mouth shut.

Seeing another feral approach from behind a rusted car, Mac lined up and took the shot. The three watched for a while from their perch in one of the brick buildings that sat adjacent to the Med-Tek entrance, waiting to see if more would come out of hiding. Mac doubted there would be very many roaming the outside though. He'd cleared the area not terribly long before when he'd come the last time with Behemoth.

In fact, the building they'd decided to camp out in for the night before heading inside Med-Tek the next morning was the same one he'd been laid up in for days after his last failed attempt to get into the facility. Mac glanced over to the corner where he'd lain then, unable to move as he'd slowly stimmed his broken leg straight. He shuddered, remembering the pain he'd been in then. Not just the pain from the injury, but from the weight of his emotions as well.

The sky was beginning to darken as night fell. Mac could hear Lydia and Cait talking quietly behind him as they prepared a fire in an old metal trash can to keep the three warm. Mac rubbed his hands together and blew warm air into them, maintaining his watch post by the broken-out window as the girls worked.

"Goddamn it's cold out here," Cait remarked. "Me tits could cut glass right about now."

Mac felt the heat of the fire sparking to life behind him, beginning to warm his back through his coat.

"This isn't so bad," Lydia said. "Boston used to be under at least a few inches, or feet, of snow by this time in January. The temperature used to get a whole lot lower than this. Guess the radiation has affected more than the cows and deer."

"What the hell is snow?" Cait asked. "And what are cows and deer?"

Lydia laughed. "Cows and deer are old-world terms for brahmin and radstag. And you've really never heard of snow?" Mac had, he'd seen old pre-war pictures of the stuff, but he was eager to hear Lydia explain it. "Snow is frozen water. When the temperature was cold enough, which doesn't seem to happen now, instead of rain, frozen water fell from the sky. When the ground was cold, it would pile up. But it wasn't like ice, more like ice flakes. It was fluffy. Kids used to pack snow into balls to throw at each other, or make snowmen with. It was fun. Until you had to shovel the stuff."

"The only thing I've ever shoveled in my life was shite," Cait snickered, which made Lydia laugh again.

 _Maybe that's why she keeps the junkie around_ , Mac realized. Hell, Lydia had likely been dealing with many of the same, defeatist emotions as he had. _Except she turned to a friend for comfort, where I turned to booze_.

Mac suddenly felt even worse about leaving Lydia like he had. It wasn't just his gun (either of them, hah) that she'd wanted around. She'd needed a friend, someone to comfort her during her own struggles, and he'd thrown her to the wind.

 _Robert Joseph MacCready, king of the assholes. That's me._

Mac hung his head in his hands and sighed.

* * *

Lydia had offered to take first watch, but Mac had insisted, saying he wasn't ready to sleep. So Lydia had rolled her sleeping bag out and lain down next to Cait, who had passed out already after coming down from her jet high.

After laying there with her eyes closed for a while and doing nothing but staring at the insides of her lids, Lydia decided to get up, maybe clean her gun before their excursion in the morning. She opened her eyes to catch Mac starting at her. He quickly looked away, focusing his gaze out the window.

Lydia crawled out of her sleeping bag. She grabbed her guns and her pack and went over to sit near Mac, her back against the wall.

"Couldn't sleep. Thought I could use the time wisely," she said by way of explanation as she began taking apart her pistol in the light from their fire.

After a while, she'd reassembled her pistol and had moved on to her rifle. She could feel Mac's eyes on her as she worked. Lydia kept quiet though, waiting to see if he'd speak.

"Lydia, I..." he began quietly, finally breaking the silence. Lydia tried to ignore the fluttering in her chest at the sound of her name on his lips. "I realized that I haven't apologized for how I left things with us and I'm just...you have to know how incredibly sorry I am. In my defense, I thought I was doing the right thing. I know I screwed up. Bad. And I'm just...I'm just so sorry."

Lydia nodded, but was quiet for minute while she processed Mac's apology. She'd spent so much time feeling angry and hurt by his departure. But now, with the honesty she heard in his voice and the truth she saw in his eyes, she realized that she'd forgiven him. But she also wasn't ready to pick up where they'd left off. It would take time, Lydia knew, to get back to that place, that level of comfort. If they ever could.

While Lydia thought that they could potentially have something special, something she'd never had with anyone (not even her late husband), she also knew that their paths were headed in different directions. She assumed that after Mac helped her take down the courser that he'd head to the Capital to be with his son. She didn't want to become too attached (any more than she already was) and then have him leave...again.

But there was something else that bothered her, too, and as much as she thought she might not want to know, she had to ask. Sighing, Lydia set aside the pieces of her rifle and looked up into Mac's eyes. "I forgive you," she told him. "But I also need to know something. Was getting Duncan's cure the only reason you left? I noticed that you haven't said anything about...his mother. Is she waiting for you to return, also?"

Mac hung his head. Sighing, he removed his cap and ran a hand through his hair, placing it back on his head before answering. "Duncan's mother, my wife, Lucy...she died. A couple years ago now. Duncan was only a year old. We'd made the mistake of holing up in a metro station one night. We didn't know the place was infested with ferals. They were on her so fast...I only got off one shot. They ripped her apart right in front of me. It took everything I had to escape with Duncan."

Lydia reached over and took one of his hands in her own. "I'm so sorry, Mac."

"I should've told you…before. Who'd understand better than you, having lost your husband? I've carried so much guilt around for the past two years over it, I just couldn't bring myself to tell you."

Lydia took her hand back, turning her gaze away from Mac's face. "I'm not sure I do understand how you feel. Not exactly. I have my own guilt over my husband, only it's very different from yours."

Reaching into her coat pocket, Lydia took out a cigarette and lit it before passing the pack over to Mac. "I never loved Nate. We'd dated for a while, but I never felt a connection with him. I was getting ready to move on, to break it off, when I got pregnant. Then Nate proposed and I felt...stuck. I'd never wanted the whole housewife, family thing, but there I was anyway," Lydia paused, taking a long drag from her cigarette. "I was never afraid of losing Nate...I was afraid of staying. But I did, because I thought it was best for the baby."

Mac didn't respond right away, and Lydia was afraid to look up at him and see...disappointment, shame, or something worse in his eyes at her confession.

"Wow," Mac said after a while. "We're both assholes."

Lydia couldn't help but laugh, looking up to see that famous smirk on his lips. She felt a familiar tingle down low at Mac's expression and realized how much she'd really missed him.

She also knew that she was in big trouble. Try as she might to keep them contained, the warm feelings that had begun to bubble before now rose to the surface and boiled over.

In that moment, Lydia knew she was falling in love. And in spite of her reservations, there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it.


	23. Never Let Me Down

**Author's Note:**

 **Hey guys, a couple things before you head into this chapter if you'll entertain me for a moment.**

 **First, I noticed that the the second-to-last chapter (21) I posted has half as many views as the one I posted after (22) and I just wanted to make you guys aware so you're not missing parts of the story! I know that I posted those ones like within an hour of each other so maybe some people didn't realize that I'd put up two that day? Just wanted you to know! Chapter 21 is when Mac and Lydia are reunited, btw!  
**

 **Also, in regards to the review posted by BulletDemonic (and thank you for reading and commenting! I appreciate your feedback, truly!), I wanted to address some concerns they had about Lydia's character. My intentions were never to make her come off as cold or as a liar. In my head, I feel like she thought she was making the best decisions with what she knew at the time. She was young, not thinking clearly, and was acting in a way that she felt was expected of her. Does that make it right or excuse it? Absolutely not. I know of many people (myself included in the past) who have stayed in relationships simply because they felt stuck or that they couldn't do any better. So anyway, I hope that sheds some light onto the character for you. When I started this fic, I thought for sure that I'd have a harder time getting into Mac's head than my SS but I guess that's turning out not to be the case!**

 **I have a busy week ahead of me so I can't promise that I'll be posting as much as usual but I'll damn sure try! You guys keep me going!**

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

 **Never Let Me Down**

" _When all your faith is failing_

 _Call my name_

 _When you've got nothing coming_

 _Call my name…_

 _Never let you down_

 _I'll never let you down"_

 **Never Let Me Down** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia entered the password into the terminal that would open the last room the three had left to search in Med-Tek. They'd scoured the whole facility over the course of the day, taking out ferals and turrets as they went, and had yet to find Duncan's cure. Lydia had watched the hope gradually fading from Mac's eyes as they went from room to room, continuously coming up empty-handed.

Lydia had never believed in any sort of god, but as she pressed 'enter' on the keyboard and the last door slid open, she said a prayer that Duncan's cure was inside.

One feral immediately ran through the door as it opened. Cait stood on the side of the door opposite Lydia, and swung her barbed-bat down onto its head. Another rushed out, arms flailing as it tumbled over its fallen companion. Mac shot it before it could get up.

"Nice teamwork," Cait said. Her bat had been lodged into the ghoul's skull and she yanked on it, trying to free it from the carnage.

Lydia caught Mac's eyes and smiled encouragingly. He gave her a half-hearted one in return, and again Lydia hoped like hell that Duncan's cure lay in the room beyond.

Cait finally managed to pull her weapon out of the feral's head with a small spray of gore. "Ugh. Nasty fuckers," she remarked, turning away from the group to fling rotted brain from the barbed-wire wrapped at the end of the bat.

Suddenly the geiger counter on Lydia's Pip-boy began ticking like mad, right before a glowing ghoul tore out of the room and ran right at Cait.

"Cait!" Lydia screamed at the same time Mac yelled, "Move!"

Lydia brought her gun up and fired into the glowing one's back, but the ghoul kept going. Cait was halfway through turning back around and raising her bat when the thing bowled her over, sending them both rolling across the ground. Mac and Lydia both followed the action with their weapons raised, afraid to take a shot while there was so much movement.

When Cait and her attacker had skidded to a stop, Lydia and Mac both took aim and fired. Lydia's bullet took the glowing one in the side and Mac's hit home at the back of its head, causing a shower of fluorescent blood and brains to land on Cait's face.

Lydia ran over to where her friend lay on the ground under the corpse, a string of curses flying from the other woman's mouth.

"Goddamn dead bastard! Mother...aargh me fuckin' shoulder!" Cait yelled in pain as Lydia ran over and used her boot to push the body from her friend. "Bastard took a bite outta me! I'm bleedin' pretty bad here, Lyd," she continued as Lydia and Mac each put an arm under Cait's shoulders and dragged her over to lean against a wall, Lydia's geiger counter ticking away.

"It's alright," Lydia assured her friend as she assessed her wound. The feral had managed to bite a good-sized chunk out of Cait's shoulder. Lydia quickly dug through her bag for alcohol and a Stimpack. "Do you want something to bite on?" she asked as she uncapped a flask of vodka and held it over the hole in her friend's shoulder.

"Just fuckin' do it!"

Lydia poured vodka into the wound and Cait let out a blood-curdling scream, followed by another string of profanities. After a few moments, Lydia uncapped the Stimpack and stuck it down into the hole, dispensing the medication.

Cait doubled over as Lydia pulled the needle out, leaning to the side and vomiting. "Son of a…" she started to say as she sat up, but her eyes fluttered closed as she lost consciousness. Lydia leaned her over to rest on the floor, on the side opposite the puke.

"She'll need some Rad-Away," Mac said, coming to kneel beside the unconscious woman. He pulled an IV bag of Rad-Away from his pack and grabbed Cait's arm, expertly administering a needle and attaching the bag. "I need duct tape," he told Lydia, holding out a hand. She pulled a roll from her bag and handed him a strip, which he used to tape the IV bag to the wall over Cait's head.

"We'll need to get her to a doctor right away," Mac said, standing and taking a step back.

"You don't think the Stim will be enough?" Lydia asked as she grabbed a rag and can of water from her bag, beginning to wipe the irradiated blood from her friend's face.

"It'll heal the wound but she's likely to get an infection from that bite."

Lydia finished cleaning her friend the best she could and went to stand near Mac. "Let's finish this search then. We can take her to Bunker Hill on the way back to Goodneighbor."

Mac nodded. He turned and went to the room they had unlocked, stepping over the feral's bodies as he entered. Lydia followed behind him, her geiger counter emitting a slow tick. She grabbed two Rad-X from her pocket, handing one over to Mac and popping the other into her own mouth.

The farther they moved into the room, the faster the counter ticked. Lydia started feeling sick from the high levels of radiation in spite of the Rad-X, but she pressed on.

 _Have to find the cure for Duncan. It has to be in here._

Lydia had her back turned to Mac while she rifled through the contents of an old fridge when he spoke up.

"This is it," Mac said. Lydia whirled to face him, running over to where he stood. "Prevent," he read from the label. "This is it! We did it!"

Mac looked up at Lydia, the biggest smile she'd ever seen taking over his face. "I can't believe it! I finally got it!" he cheered. He handed the syringe to Lydia and pulled the bag from his back. Pulling out a spare shirt, he took the medicine back from Lydia and wrapped it in the cloth before putting the whole thing into his bag and pushing his arms back through the straps.

Lydia turned to leave, the steady exposure to the radiation beginning to affect her more and more, and all but ran from the room, Mac on her heels. When they were safely outside the room and the ticking of Lydia's geiger counter had slowed to almost non-existent, Mac turned Lydia to face him and crushed her to his chest in a fierce hug.

"I can't even begin to thank you for everything you've done for me, and now for Duncan. I owe you so much," he said said into her ear.

Lydia could hear the emotion in his voice and wanted to pull back and look into his eyes. But she didn't move, partly because she was just taking the moment to enjoy being held by Mac...partly because she felt so sick from the radiation.

"Mac," she began after a moment, pulling away, "I'm-" but the bile rising in her throat prevented her from finishing. She managed to get a few steps away before her stomach heaved and she emptied its contents onto the floor.

* * *

After giving Lydia an IV of Rad-Away, Mac had picked up the still unconscious Cait and carried her out of the facility, Lydia leading them to the same building they'd camped in the previous night. Cait finally awoke during the night, but her skin was hot with fever and the newly-grown flesh over her bite wound was red and swollen. Mac assumed that she'd need the wound lanced, and probably a heavy dose of antibiotics as well.

They set out for Bunker Hill before sunrise, Lydia anxious to get Cait to a doctor. Cait kept insisting that she was fine, in spite of the fact that she had to stop every few hundred yards to vomit into the bushes.

Being slowed by a sick Cait, it was mid-morning before they stepped through the gate at Bunker Hill. Lydia led the borderline-delirious Cait straight to the doctor's shack. Explaining to the doctor what had happened, Lydia gave the woman a generous pile of caps for Cait's treatment. After making Cait promise to stay there and rest until she returned, Lydia and Mac made a few trades with the merchants to unload things they'd picked up at Med-Tek before heading out to Goodneighbor.

Mac was in a rush to finally get the cure to Daisy, practically running through the streets toward Goodneighbor, Lydia following close behind.

The air was a little warmer than it had been recently, causing a heavy fog to coat the area in spite of the fact that it was almost midday. Mac stepped out from an alley, and through a break in the fog caught a glimpse of a super mutant heading their way.

Quickly backtracking, Mac pushed Lydia back into the shadows of the alley, pressing her up against the wall and covering her body with his as if to shield her. He motioned Lydia to stay quiet by placing a finger over his lips and she nodded her understanding.

As the two waited for the mutant to pass by, Mac became increasingly aware of the way Lydia's body was pressed against his own, their chests pushing back and forth against each other as they took quiet breaths. He couldn't help but remember the time they'd been pressed close like that, naked and moving together on the bed in the Gunner shack.

"He-he's gone," Lydia whispered, bringing Mac back to the present.

Mac quickly turned away from Lydia, hoping she hadn't felt the press of his growing erection. He peeked around the wall of the alley, seeing the mutant disappear into the fog farther down the road.

"It's safe now," he whispered over his shoulder. Making his way down the street, he discreetly reached down and adjusted himself, willing the stiffness between his legs to relax.

A short time later the two entered Goodneighbor and Mac ran over to Daisy at her shop.

"Daisy! I got it!" he said excitedly, taking the bag from his back and pulling out the cloth-wrapped syringe. Lydia came up to stand beside him.

The ghoul's black eyes widened and a smile took over her ruined face as Mac handed the bundle to her. "Duncan's cure!" she exclaimed, peeling back the cloth to uncover the medicine. "Oh my god, that's wonderful! You finally did it."

"It wasn't easy," Mac said. "Thankfully I had help."

"I knew the two of you could do it," Daisy winked.

Mac looked over to Lydia. "I couldn't have done it without you," he told her. She smiled at him before turning her attention to Daisy.

"You can make sure it gets to Duncan quickly?" Lydia asked.

"I'll get it out on the first caravan leaving the Commonwealth. The driver owes me a few favors and he's reliable. It'll be at your homestead before week's end, RJ."

"I don't know how to thank you, Daisy," Mac said.

Daisy waved away the statement, reaching under the counter and pulling out an old cigar box. "Don't thank me. You've saved my ass plenty of times, it's the least I can do," she assured him, wrapping the syringe and placing it into the box. She pulled a long strip of duct tape from the roll beside her and used it to secure the box closed. "Now you two have another mission to complete, huh?"

* * *

Lydia and Mac sat on a couch in The Third Rail that evening. She'd wanted to stay in town for the night, get some sleep in a real (albeit heavily stained) bed at the Rex before heading out in the morning to find a courser.

Sipping vodka from her glass, she tried to fight off the growing sense of dread she had about confronting a courser. So far, the things had proven elusive, and tough, and she was terrified of dying before finding Shaun. Lydia also didn't want any harm to come to Mac. He was so close to having his life in order, she didn't want to take him away from his son now.

As Lydia watched MacCready nurse a Nuka-Cola, her thoughts turned to a different subject. Alcohol beginning to fuzz her brain, she thought back to earlier in the day, when Mac had been pressed up against her in that alley. She felt a flutter down low and heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled the feeling of his stiffness pushing into her lower belly. Lydia briefly wondered how badly it would screw up their rekindling friendship if she were to suggest they take their small celebration back to her room.

Ultimately she decided to keep her mouth shut though. She had no idea how Mac felt toward her, and she honestly doubted that she could keep her own growing feelings for him at bay if they were to sleep together again.

Lydia sighed, finishing off the last of her vodka in an attempt to drown her many frustrations.

* * *

"You want another soda? Or a real drink?" Lydia asked Mac as she stood from the couch.

"No thanks, I'm good," Mac replied, shaking his head.

Lydia shrugged, turning to head to the bar. Mac watched as she walked away, hips swaying. He sighed at the twitch below his belt as Lydia leaned over the counter to get Charlie's attention.

Mac wanted Lydia. Badly. And not just in his bed. After releasing himself from the burden of guilt he'd carried over Lucy's death, he was left with his feelings for Lydia that grew more intense every time he looked into her eyes.

Later that evening, after Lydia'd had a few more drinks and was noticeably drunk, Mac helped her up to her room at the Rex.

Mac tucked her into bed and switched off the light. "Goodnight, Boss," he said as he grabbed the doorknob, meaning to head to his own room.

"Mac?" she said.

He stopped, turning back to face her. Mac could just see Lydia silhouetted against the light emanating from the boarded-up window. She sat up in the bed. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Could you...stay with me tonight? Please?" she whispered the last word.

Mac paused. He wanted to, but she was drunk and he didn't want to take advantage. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Not for _that_ reason," she explained. "I just...I don't wanna be alone tonight. Please?"

Mac sighed. "Alright," he agreed. He shrugged out of his bag and dropped it onto the floor before taking a seat on the room's couch.

"No, over here," Lydia said. "Can you just hold me? Please?"

Mac hesitated, but he could hear the emotion in her voice and relented. Lydia scooted over toward the wall as Mac neared the bed, making room for him. He set his hat down in the beside table next to Lydia's Pip-boy and crawled in next to her.

Lydia moved into Mac's chest, burying her face in his coat. He realized then that she was crying, soft sobs wracking her body. Mac put his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"I'm so worried," Lydia sobbed. "What if I never find Shaun? What if I die...or you do...trying to take down that courser? I don't think I could live with myself if you…"

"Hey, we'll be fine," Mac soothed, rubbing a hand up and down her back. "Together we've mowed through a whole troupe of Gunners, an entire building full of ferals, plus a handful of other wasteland threats. We can do this. Together, we can do it."

Lydia nodded against his chest, but continued to cry. "Just...don't die on me, Mac."

The plea in Lydia's voice cut right through Mac's heart. At that moment, he no longer wondered about his feelings. He knew that he loved her.

As Mac held Lydia, her sobs eventually slowed and were replaced by deep breathing as she fell asleep. He made a decision then, pushing her hair aside to gaze down on her sleeping face. If they lived through taking down the courser, he'd tell her how he felt.

He'd tell Lydia that he loved her.


	24. Rock 'N' Roll With Me

**Chapter 24**

 **Rock 'N' Roll With Me**

" _When you rock 'n' roll with me_

 _No one else I'd rather be_

 _Nobody here can do it for me_

 _I'm in tears again_

 _When you rock 'n' roll with me"_

 **Rock 'N' Roll With Me** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia and Mac traipsed around the outside ruins of what had once been the Commonwealth Institute of Technology. Tuning her Pip-boy radio, Lydia scanned for any interference that would indicate the presence of an Institute courser.

This was the third time she'd been standing in the CIT ruins, hoping to locate a courser. But she hoped, with Mac in her corner, that this trip would be the last.

Looking up from her Pip-boy, Lydia caught Mac's gaze. She quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Neither had spoken much since waking up together in the Rexford that morning. Lydia felt her cheeks grow hotter as she recalled how she'd drunkenly cried to Mac, and how she'd fallen asleep in his arms.

"What now?" Mac asked, pulling Lydia from her thoughts.

"Um," Lydia cleared her throat, "now we wait to see if we can get any interference telling us a courser is near.

"Okay," Mac shrugged.

They walked the ruins in awkward silence, listening for the radio to give away a courser. As they neared the east side of the building, a gunshot hit the bricks above Lydia's head. Instinctively ducking behind a car, she peeked around through the vehicle's broken-out windows, trying to find where the shot had come from.

She heard the bang of Mac's rifle, followed by a grunt of pain as the raider who'd shot at them fell from a nearby building onto the street.

After taking out the remaining raiders, Lydia and Mac slowly combed through their camp, pocketing unspent ammunition and other valuables.

"Sweet!" Mac exclaimed, taking a seat at the desk he'd been going through. Lydia raised an eyebrow in question and he held up his trophy: a heavily worn edition of Grognak the Barbarian. "Grognak is the best! I used to read these as a kid. Duncan will love this!"

Lydia watched fondly as Mac thumbed through the comic. She had saw a vision in her head then, one that made her heart pound with yearning. Herself, Mac, Duncan, and Shaun, all sitting on her ruined couch back in Sanctuary, reading a comic book and laughing.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned away before they fell. She didn't want Mac to see her crying again. She'd been such a mess the night before, her emotions running on high as of late. It had been three months that she been out in the Commonwealth looking for Shaun. She knew that she'd made progress, but it felt so slow and she was becoming increasingly desperate to find him.

Having looted everything useful from the raider camp, Lydia motioned Mac to follow as she continued making circles around the CIT buildings.

It was nearing dusk when the pair decided to stop for dinner. They made their way back to the raider camp they'd cleared previously, taking seats at a table near a still-burning barrel fire. Lydia dug some sticks of brahmin jerky and a couple slices of razorgrain bread from her pack, splitting them up and handing half to Mac.

"So, I've been wondering," Mac began as he chewed a piece of jerky, "when we do kill this thing, how do we get the chip out of its head?"

Lydia felt relief wash over her as Mac finished his question. She'd thought for sure he was about to say something about her drunken crying the night before, which she had no desire to discuss.

"Crack it open like a coconut?" she suggested, shrugging her shoulders as she tore off a piece of bread and ate it.

"Like a _what_?" Mac asked.

Lydia laughed. "Never mind. I honestly hadn't come up with a working plan yet. I need to get the thing out but it needs to be intact when I do."

Mac got up and disappeared around a corner. He came back a few moments later, a hacksaw held in one hand. He raised an eyebrow and handed the saw to Lydia.

She laughed, reaching out to take the saw from him and setting it down onto the table. "That's about the extent of anything I'd thought of. It's definitely a better option than smashing it open. I just have to be really careful."

The two were finishing their dinner and discussing making camp there for the night when suddenly a blip sounded from Lydia's Pip-boy.

Lydia's head immediately shot to the personal computer on her arm. A moment later another blip sounded.

"This is it!" Lydia exclaimed, gathering up her bag and getting to her feet. "One is close! We have to follow the frequency to find out where it's coming from."

Mac hurried to catch up with Lydia as she began walking away. "How do we know we're getting closer?" he asked.

"The beeps will get stronger and faster the closer we get. You'll see."

After some trial and error, Lydia sussed out that the blips grew stronger as they moved east. As they neared the front of a building labeled "Greentech Genetics", the beeps became a constant staccato. Passing the entrance made them slow again.

"This has to be the place," Lydia said, going up the steps to the front door. She turned a dial on her Pip-boy, silencing the radio.

She looked up at Mac. "We can do this," he said, blue eyes boring into her own. "I got your back."

As she gazed into Mac's eyes, she felt the confidence that had been missing earlier in the day rise up inside her. She felt like she could do anything with Mac by her side.

Nodding, she unholstered her pistol and flicked the safety off. "Let's go bag us a courser."

* * *

Mac ducked back behind the doorway he'd leaned out of right as a laser whisked by his head. He reloaded his rifle while Lydia leaned out from the other side, taking her own shots. He heard the small boom of a turret exploding as Lydia fired through the door.

They traded off as Lydia leaned back in to reload, Mac sticking the barrel of his rifle through the opening and taking out a Gunner that had peeked out from his own hiding place across the way.

After a minute went by without any gunfire, Mac announced, "I think we're clear."

Lydia nodded, standing and heading through the doorway. They continued through the maze of hallways, stairways, and offices, taking out Gunners as they went. Mac hadn't been counting, but he guessed that they must have taken out at least two dozen so far. Not that he minded killing Gunners, but there were just so damn many of them.

As they started up a flight of stairs, voices sounded from above.

"I don't know the password! I'm telling the truth!" a desperate man yelled.

"I don't believe you are," came a second man's voice, monotone and without feeling.

Lydia stopped her ascent on the stairs and turned to face Mac. 'That's a courser' she mouthed. Mac nodded and they continued up the stairs.

"Oh god! Please, no!" the first man again.

"Please, you don't have to do this!" a third male voice.

As they crested the top of the stairs, there was the unmistakable blast of an energy weapon being fired, along with a flash of blue light coming from the next room over.

"Oh god!" one of the men sobbed.

Mac hurried behind Lydia as she took cover in a closet at the top of the stairs.

"All he had to do was tell me the password," the monotone voice that Mac now recognized as the courser said. "Now, are you going to cooperate?"

"You have a plan?" Mac whispered.

"Yeah," Lydia replied, pulling her bag from her back. "I glimpsed a set of stairs in there. I want you to take this," she handed him a stealth-boy, "and use it to sneak up the stairs to get a good angle on him. I'll try to keep him that corner so you can concentrate on getting some good shots. Remember, stay away from the head. Also he's not a regular person, it's going to take more than one well-placed shot to get him down."

"Got it," Mac nodded, strapping the stealth-boy to his belt. He grabbed Lydia's shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Be careful," he said, holding her gaze. "We both have people counting on us."

"I know. You be careful, too."

Mac released her and made to grab his rifle from the floor where he'd set it when Lydia surprised him. Grabbing his face in her hands, she pulled his mouth down to hers, giving him a kiss that was urgent, yet chaste.

When she pulled away, Mac was left slightly breathless. He felt the words leaving his mouth before his brain had a chance to reign them in. "I love you."

Lydia's eyes widened as she stared at him. "Mac, I-"

Before she could finish, they heard another shot from the courser's energy weapon, followed by the cry of another Gunner.

"We have to move now!" Lydia whispered loudly, not finishing her thought from before.

Mac grabbed her chin and gave her a quick kiss before creeping out of their hiding place.

* * *

Lydia forced herself to concentrate, sneaking out of the closet behind Mac. She'd been about to reciprocate his sentiment when they'd been pulled back to the task at hand.

 _Stay alive, Mac. Please stay alive,_ she begged him with her thoughts. _I love you, too._

Lydia followed Mac as he crept to the doorway, crouching behind a broken control panel on a cart that had likely been there since before the bombs fell.

Peeking around the edge, Lydia could see that the courser had his back to them. She nodded the go-ahead to Mac, who winked at her before activating the stealth-boy and blinking from existence.

Lydia watched the slight blur of movement that was the only sign of Mac as he crept into the room and to the left, heading for the stairs. The courser still had his back to her, and she took the opportunity to quietly dart across the doorway, taking cover on the other side. She couldn't see the blurry movement from Mac anymore through the large, round gate took up the center of the room.

"You've been following me," the courser said as the last Gunner begged for his life. The blast of the courser's gun sounded again, blue light filling the room. Lydia took the opportunity to lean out from the doorway, firing four shots in quick succession into the courser's back.

He turned, raising his energy pistol toward Lydia. "Are you here for the synth?" he asked, voice still the same monotone as before. Lydia fired again, aiming for its chest as the courser also opened fire. Lydia stumbled back a step as a blue beam from the courser's gun hit her in the left shoulder, the courser faltering also as one of Mac's bullets lodged into its right arm.

The wound burned badly and Lydia could smell her own scorched flesh. She quickly righted her aim to fire more shots but the courser disappeared from her vision, a smattering of blood left on the floor from the shots Lydia had gotten in.

 _Fuck!_ Lydia leaned back into her cover on the side of the doorway, releasing her spent clip onto the ground and shoving a full one into her pistol. When she leaned back out from her cover, she saw no sign of the courser, but the blue lasers coming from his gun gave him away.

He was nearing the bottom of the stairs now, firing up to Mac's position on the landing. She could somewhat see Mac through the gate in the middle of the room, his stealth-boy having run out.

She fired continuously into the seemingly empty space behind where the blue lasers emanated from, seeing trails of blood appear on the ground where her bullets hit the courser. The thing blinked back into existence and Lydia watched as another of Mac's shots went into the courser's chest, causing it to stumble backward.

Lydia's pistol clicked empty again, and she quickly reloaded. But, hurt as he was, the courser was faster. Lydia watched in slow motion as he raised his gun in Mac's direction and fired.

Lydia heard the clatter of Mac's rifle hitting the floor and a thud as he went down. She could no longer see him through the gate.

"Mac!" Lydia screamed, standing up from her crouch as the courser turned its sights to her. In her fury over the thing having shot Mac, she momentarily forgot her own rule of no headshots, aiming and firing right between the thing's eyes.

Her aim was true, and the courser fell backward onto the ground, a puddle of blood forming under its head.

"Mac!" Lydia screamed again, running into the room. She jumped over the dead courser, taking the stairs two at a time as she ran to where Mac lay on the landing.

Mac lay on his back, unconscious, blood pouring from a hole in the center of his chest. "Oh Mac!" Lydia dropped to the ground next to him, pulling the bag from her back. "You'll be okay," she promised through her tears as she took out her medical kit. "You're okay."

She uncapped a Stimpack and shoved it into the wound, dispensing the medication quickly. She pushed aside his coat and ripped open the front of his shirt, exposing the hole. There was so much blood, Lydia couldn't tell if the Stimpack was doing its job. Grabbing a can of purified water from her bag, she popped it open and poured it over the wound.

Lydia stuck her fingers to the side of Mac's neck. She could feel a pulse, but it was very faint. Still unsure if he was healing yet, Lydia jabbed him with another Stimpack.

"Please wake up! Please, Mac," she sobbed, moving up to cradle his head in her lap and ignoring the sting of pain in her shoulder from her own wound. "Duncan needs you," she told him through her tears. "I need you. I love you."

Lydia sat on the floor, holding Mac and waiting for him to show any signs of movement. Lifting the hat from his head, she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair.

"Ground control to Major Tom," she sang, voice wavering and unsteady as she cried.

Suddenly Mac gasped and his eyes fluttered open.

"Mac!" Lydia cried.

"Holy shit that hurts!" Mac said, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. He coughed and spat blood onto the ground.

"Are you okay?" Lydia fussed over him. "Maybe you shouldn't move yet." She pulled his shirt aside to expose the wound, which was now a circle of fresh, pink skin. Lydia placed her hand over his newly-grown flesh.

Mac moved his hand to cover hers, holding it in place against his chest. He used his free hand to wipe tears from her cheeks before tilting her face up to his own.

"I love you, Mac," Lydia told him, gazing up into his blue eyes.

"I know," he smirked.

Lydia's heart pounded harder at the sight of the smirk she loved. Grabbing the back of his neck, she pulled him down to cover his lips with her own.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Couldn't resit the Star Wars reference, guys. I'm a huge nerd.**


	25. She Shook Me Cold

**Chapter 25**

 **She Shook Me Cold**

" _Then she took my head_

 _Smashed it up_

 _Kept my young blood rising_

 _Crushed me mercilessly_

 _Kept me going around_

 _So she didn't know_

 _I crave her so"_

 **She Shook Me Cold** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Mac sat at a couch in The Dugout, sipping a Nuka-Cherry and smoking a cigarette. He made a face at the overly sweet taste of the soda, setting it down on the coffee table in front of him.

Lydia stood at the bar, chatting and laughing with Vadim. Mac smiled at her happy disposition. She'd been in a great mood since they'd dislodged the chip from the dead courser's brain two days earlier.

After carefully sawing open the synthetic man's head, they'd found very life-like brains inside. He remembered the way Lydia had fretted over having shot the thing in the head, worried that she may have caused damage to the chip. But after mushing through the brain matter piece-by-piece, they'd found what she'd been searching for.

Lydia had also released the synth that the Gunners had held captive, the reason the courser had been in that building and hadn't teleported out as soon as he'd been fired on. She'd made Mac rest for a whole day, tending to and worrying over him. He could see Lydia's motherly instincts then, and the love he had for her continued to grow.

Mac was still sore, not yet feeling back to normal after having had a hole punched through his chest by the courser's laser rifle. But he'd felt well enough to get away from the building full of dead Gunners, so they'd slowly made their way to Diamond City. Lydia wanted to see Nick, to find out if he knew anyone who could possibly decode the complex tech that was the courser chip.

Mac wondered about Duncan. By his estimate, the cure should be reaching him in the next day or two. He hoped with everything he had that it worked. He was also anxious to see his son. Now that he'd completed his task with Lydia he could technically head home, but the thought of leaving her made his chest ache.

And if Mac was honest with himself, he didn't think of the old farm in the Capital as _home_ anymore. If it weren't for Duncan being there, he'd feel no regrets about never going back. He'd finally made peace in his head with Lucy's death, but now he had a new conflict: what to do about Duncan and Lydia.

Mac had been mulling over the idea of moving Duncan up to the Commonwealth. But, while no place was really _safe_ out in the Wasteland, the Commonwealth was maybe a little less safe than the Capital because of the threat the Institute posed. And Mac knew he couldn't ask Lydia to move, not before she'd found her son. For all his contemplation on the topic, he was not much closer to a solution. He knew he have to talk to Lydia about it. Soon.

"Vashe zrodovye!" Vadim said loudly from the bar, interrupting Mac from his thoughts. He looked over to see Vadim and Lydia raise their glasses in a toast and knock back their drinks. "Don't be stranger, lapochka!" he called as Lydia turned away from the bar, bottle of moonshine in hand.

Lydia made her way to Mac, hips swaying and a look of mischief in her hazel eyes. She stopped in front of him, taking the cigarette from Mac's fingers and placing it into her mouth. "Come on," she said around the smoke, grabbing Mac's hand and pulling him to his feet.

She led him through the bar and into their rented room, closing the door behind them. She inhaled one last hit from the cigarette before stamping it out in the ashtray on the coffee table.

Mac sat down on the room's couch, watching as Lydia took a swig from the bottle in her hand before setting it down onto the table next to the ashtray. She then unclipped the Pip-boy from her wrist, depositing that onto the table as well.

Mac could see the lust in her gaze as she made her way around the table, the look in her eyes causing him to begin stiffening below his belt.

Lydia climbed up onto Mac's lap, straddling him as she reached up to remove the hat from his head. Smiling, she lowered her mouth to his. He grew harder as she pressed her hips into his, grinding slowly against him as she explored his mouth with her tongue. He reached his hands around to grab hold of her ass, pushing them harder against each other. Mac growled into her mouth as the friction from their movement caused him to become fully erect.

Sliding his hands up Lydia's back under her shirt, Mac unclasped her bra. He traced his fingers around her ribs, bringing his hands up under the loose bra to cup her breasts. She moaned into his mouth as he ran his fingers over her nipples, causing them to stand up to points.

Breaking their kiss, Lydia leaned away to pull her shirt over her head, discarding both it and her bra info the floor. Mac grabbed her waist and pulled her back into him, taking a pink nipple into his mouth and gently biting down. Lydia let out a breathless moan, wrapping her hands around Mac's head as he flicked the nub with his tongue. She allowed him to move his attention to her other breast for a moment before pulling his head back and kissing him urgently.

Lydia rubbed herself against Mac once more before pulling away and pushing up off his lap. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, she opened Mac's legs and ran her hands up the front of his pants, stroking him through the cloth of his pants as she went. Mac felt himself twitch in anticipation as Lydia's hands went to work undoing his belt. She lowered his zipper, looking up at him through her lashes and winking as she pulled down the waistband of his boxers and his erection sprung free. Mac twitched again as she lowered her mouth to his sensitive head, using her tongue to swipe the bead of pre-cum from the slit before slowly taking him into her mouth.

"Oh god," Mac sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch. It was all he could do not to thrust himself into her mouth as she sucked on him, taking him deep into her throat.

After a few minutes, Mac threaded a hand into the hair at the back of her head and pulled her away. "I want you _now_ ," he told her huskily, eyes half-lidded from the pleasure.

Lydia stood, turning and bending over in front of him as she put one foot up on the coffee table and slowly began to unlace her boot. She took her time, leisurely pulling her boot off and moving to the other foot. Mac groaned as he watched the way her ass moved in her jeans, growing painful with his need to be inside her.

Finally she turned back to face him, her hands running over her breasts and down to her waist, drawing out every movement as she unbuckled her belt. She pulled the leather strap through her belt loops before dropping it onto the ground and moving to unbutton and unzip her jeans. Mac lifted his hips off the couch, pushing his pants down past his knees as Lydia slid her own to the floor and stepped out of them.

Mac reached out and grabbed hold of Lydia's hips, pulling her down onto him. She arranged herself so that her slick folds pressed around his hardness, her hands braced on the couch behind him. Using his hand, Mac grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed himself along her folds, collecting the moisture there before using his sensitive head to stroke her bud of nerves.

Lydia moaned, rocking her hips forward. Mac slid himself back to find her opening, sheathing his cock inside her. Lydia cried out as he stretched and filled her, Mac voicing his own pleasure as her wet tightness clenched around him.

Moving her hips, Lydia rocked up and down, setting a slow but steady pace. Mac ran his hands up the front of her body to knead her breasts, pinching her nipples between his fingers.

Crying out, Lydia began to quicken her pace. Mac moved a hand down between them, using his thumb to rub circles around her bud as her breaths came faster and faster.

"Oh, Mac," she breathed as he felt her insides tighten around him with her climax. He let out a loud moan, relishing the way her muscles squeezed him.

Grabbing hold of Lydia's hips, Mac began thrusting up into her, harder and faster than the pace she'd set previously. Their moans intensified, and Mac felt himself about to spill over. Lydia moved her hands to the back of his head, pulling Mac in for a kiss as his orgasm shook through him.

Lydia collapsed forward against Mac, both breathing heavily. "You're...amazing," he panted, wrapping his arms around Lydia's back and hugging her to him. "I love you."

"I love you," she breathed against his neck.

* * *

After a few minutes, Lydia climbed off of Mac, grabbing his pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket on her way up. Mac pulled his pants back up but didn't bother fastening them.

Lounging back in the corner of the couch, Lydia lay her legs across Mac's lap as she lit as cigarette. She handed the pack back to him and he lit his own.

Lydia tried not to let her thoughts wander to where they'd been for the past two days since she'd acquired the courser chip, wanting to bask in her post-orgasm glow. But hard as she tried, she couldn't keep the thoughts away.

She and Mac had both helped each other accomplish their personal goals. Technically, their agreement was complete. But now, with their shared feelings having been declared, Lydia had no idea what they were doing. She'd assumed that Mac would be heading back to the Capital to be with Duncan. Part of her was happy for him and wanted him to be reunited with his son, the other part selfishly didn't want to let him go.

She'd been putting off this discussion for the past couple days. But now, with her on the verge of a potential breakthrough in finding Shaun, she knew they had to talk.

Leaning over, Lydia grabbed the bottle of moonshine from the coffee table and took a long drink. She coughed as the bitter liquid went down, giving her the courage to ask what she needed to.

"Mac, we need to talk," she spoke up as she set the bottle down on the floor near the couch.

Mac turned his head to look at her, blowing smoke through his nose. "I know," he nodded.

"We've each held up our own ends of the bargain we made now. Duncan's cure is on its way to him, and I've got the chip. I knew that you'd head back to be with Duncan as soon as you could, and...god this is so selfish of me to even think about...but I just...I don't want you to go," she said quickly, eager to get the words out and be done with it.

Mac sighed, running his hand through his hair. He hit his cigarette, and blew the smoke out before responding. "I've been thinking about that, too," he admitted. He paused, hitting his cigarette again. "I don't want to leave you, either...and I _can't_ leave Duncan."

Lydia nodded, tears coming to her eyes. "I know that. And I don't want you to leave him. He needs his father."

"I'd want you to come with me," Mac said, running his hand along Lydia's naked leg, "but I know you can't leave until you find Shaun. I've also been thinking, though...I don't feel like that farm in the Capital is 'home' anymore. What if...how would you feel about me bringing Duncan here?" he asked, looking up into Lydia's eyes.

Lydia smiled warmly at Mac. "I'd love it," she said. If it weren't for the hole caused by Shaun's absence, her heart would be full.

Returning Lydia's smile, Mac leaned over and kissed her. "I've also been thinking, though," he continued, "I know it's risky, but the Commonwealth isn't exactly a safe place while the Institute is still a threat. I want to help you find Shaun, and take down those bastards. Let's try to make this Wasteland a better place for our kids."

Lydia's smile fell. "No, Mac."

"What? Why?"

"Because I can't risk you dying. I won't take you away from Duncan," Lydia finished quietly, hanging her head.

Mac reached over and tilted her face up to look at him. "This is my decision," he told her firmly. "I'm going with you and we're going to see this through to the end, whatever the outcome."

"But-"

"No," Mac frowned. "I'm doing this _with_ you, damn-it. I already walked away once, I'm not leaving again." He leaned forward and crushed his cigarette into the ashtray before pulling Lydia into him in a fierce hug. "And we're both going to be fine. We've got each other's backs. Once Duncan is well enough to travel, I'll go get him and bring him here. I'm sure we can find a place for the four of us to live."

Lydia wanted to argue with him. She knew she was being selfish, knew she should make him leave to go be with Duncan so he'd be safe. But she wanted him with her.

"Okay," she relented. "But if you die, I'm going to kill you."

Mac laughed. "I love you."

"I love you, too."


	26. Watch That Man

**Author's Note:**

 **So sorry about the later than usual chapter! Life got in the way of writing this weekend. All is well, I've just been busy. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 26**

 **Watch That Man**

" _Yeah_

 _I was shaking like a leaf_

 _For I couldn't understand the conversation_

 _Yeah_

 _I ran to the street_

 _Looking for Information"_

 **Watch That Man** _ **\- David Bowie**_

* * *

Lydia stood in the basement of the Memory Den with MacCready and Doctor Amari. After speaking with Nick in Diamond City that morning, he'd told Lydia to ask Amari about the courser chip. The detective had also said that if the doctor couldn't help, she'd likely be able to point Lydia in the direction of someone who could.

Holding out the chip to Amari, Lydia asked, "So, do you know anything about decoding a courser chip?"

"You fought a courser? Oh my god," Amari remarked, taking the chip and turning it over in her hands. "Unfortunately, I can't help you. I've worked on a lot of synths, but never a courser. I don't know _what_ that chip does, let alone how to decode it."

The doctor handed the chip back to Lydia, who placed it back in her pack with a sigh. Amari motioned Lydia closer, speaking lower as she went on. "But there are people who might. I work with a certain group...they're the only ones I know that even have a chance at cracking Institute security. They're called the Railroad."

"Who are they?" Lydia asked.

"They're a group of people that help synths escape the Institute. I don't know who they all are. Usually an agent of theirs just shows up with someone who needs new memories. One of them gave me a code phrase to find them if there was ever an emergency: 'Follow the Freedom Trail'."

"The Freedom Trail…" Lydia whispered in thought. She remembered walking the old tourist path with her father as a child, but couldn't remember where it ended or began. But she did know that she'd seen one of the old trail markers right outside Goodneighbor. "There's a marker right outside town," she said aloud.

"Yes," Amari confirmed. "But I'm not sure where the trail goes from there. I've never had to follow it, myself."

Lydia nodded. "Thanks for your help, Doctor. Again."

Leaving the Memory Den, Lydia and Mac stopped at the entrance of the neighboring alley to smoke. "You ever heard of this Railroad?" she asked, lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke toward the early afternoon sky.

"No. I have heard that phrase: 'follow the Freedom Trail', but I never knew what it meant."

"I remember walking it with my father as a child but I don't remember where it begins or ends, just that it denotes important landmarks from the American Revolution."

"Guess we're going to find out," Mac said. He took a drag of his smoke. "Wanna head out in the morning? We can go get a room at the Rex for the night," he smirked.

Lydia felt the familiar warmth at the sight of Mac's signature expression. "No, let's go now. I want to start as soon as possible."

"Okay," Mac sighed in mock disappointment.

"That smirk of yours drives me crazy you know," she admitted with a smile as she dropped her cigarette and crushed it under her boot.

"Oh yeah?" Mac raised an eyebrow and took a step toward her. "How so?"

"In the way that makes me want to get that room now, anyway," Lydia blushed.

"Oh really?" Mac raised an eyebrow and smirked again. He used his body to push Lydia up against the brick wall, leaning down to kiss her roughly. She brought her arms up to rest around his neck as his facial hair scrubbed at her face. Mac bit down gently on her bottom lip and she moaned softly, feeling weak in the knees. Finally breaking away, he smiled and said huskily, "So let's go get that room, then."

Groaning, Lydia leaned her forehead against Mac's. "Don't tempt me. I have to do this."

"I know," Mac sighed, giving her another quick kiss before releasing her and stepping back. "Let's go find the Railroad."

"Choo-choo," Lydia remarked sarcastically.

She led Mac through the gate and out of Goodneighbor. A few yards away from the door, Lydia knelt down in front of a brass seal on the ground. The round marker was inscribed with the words "The Freedom Trail - Boston". A number "6" and an arrow pointing to the "o" in the word "Freedom" were painted in red over the image on the metal.

"Six-O," Lydia murmured, making a note in her Pip-boy. "Guess we have some more clues to find."

"How many of these are there, anyway?" Mac asked.

"I'm not sure. At least a dozen I think. Maybe more," Lydia replied, standing from her crouch. She eyed the lines leading away from the seal, both heading in different directions. "Which way should we start?"

"Well, we know that way leads back near Diamond City," Mac said, pointing in the direction they'd traveled to reach Goodneighbor. "Let's go that way," he pointed to the other path.

"Alright," Lydia shrugged. She unholstered her pistol and began walking down the red line. "I always wondered what would've happened if Dorothy had followed the _red_ brick road."

"Huh?" Mac asked.

Lydia chuckled at her own joke. "Never mind."

* * *

Mac followed Lydia up the steps to Bunker Hill. What should've been a short walk had taken them the entire afternoon, having had trouble with a small band of mutants in an old brick building that Lydia had identified as Faneuil Hall. A lengthy fire-fight and a few Stimpacks later, the pair had come away victorious.

They'd followed the Freedom Trail to its end at Bunker Hill but there had been no more brass seals or clues after they'd passed Old North Church.

Mac could sense Lydia's frustration as she led him to Savoldi's bar and took a seat at an empty stool. Sitting down next to her, Mac watched her pull up the notes she'd made on her Pip-boy of the clues they'd collected.

Looking over Lydia's shoulder to study their clues, Mac was interrupted when Tom Savoldi came over to take their drink orders. The bartender raised an eyebrow at Mac in surprise when he ordered a water, but shrugged as he pulled out a can and slid it over to the merc. Tom set the vodka Lydia had ordered down in front of her and walked away.

"So what's with the not drinking anymore?" Lydia asked as Mac sipped his water.

Mac hung his head. He'd hoped to avoid having to tell Lydia about his addiction, but knew she'd ask eventually. "After I left you at the interchange, I was...in a bad way. All the guilt I carried over Lucy's death, Duncan's illness, and then leaving you...it was killing me. Whiskey and I became best buds for a while. Daisy dosed me with some addictol after a particularly bad bender that almost got me exiled from Goodneighbor. I haven't had a drink since," Mac finished, taking a sip from his can of water.

"You should have said something sooner," Lydia scolded, giving him a light shove. "Does it bother you when I drink?"

Mac shook his head and smiled at Lydia, trying to lighten the mood. "Nope. You're pretty fun after a few drinks. Maybe I can get a repeat of last night," he winked.

Lydia laughed and leaned over to kiss him. "I can still do that without the booze," she whispered against Mac's mouth. He felt a twitch down below his belt, and he pulled Lydia closer for a more intimate kiss.

After a minute, Lydia pulled away. "We need to figure this out," she changed topics, bringing the arm with her Pip-boy in between the two so they could study the clues noted on the computer. "We have 6-O, 3-I, 5-R, 8-D, and 1-R. We're missing numbers two, four, and seven, and whatever letters are associated with those numbers. There may even be more than eight. But maybe we can figure it out without having to go back and find the others."

"In order it's R-I-R-O-D," Mac spelled.

"Wait a second," Lydia muttered, pulling her arm back and turning dials on the computer. She held her arm back out to Mac to show him the screen.

 **R_I_RO_D**

"It spells 'Railroad'," Lydia said, rolling her eyes.

"Well that's just ridiculous. Doesn't tell us sh-uh anything."

As if on cue, a bald man in a dirty flannel and dark sunglasses leaned over from the neighboring bar stool, elbowing Mac in the side. "You looking for the Railroad?" he whispered.

Mac eyed the bald man. "Maybe," he answered slowly. "You know where we can find them?"

"Me? Nope, never heard of 'em," the man said before downing his remaining drink and standing from the stool.

Mac and Lydia shared a confused glance as the man turned to leave. But he turned back, leaning down in between the two.

"It's getting dark. You'll need a lantern to light the way," he said in a low voice before leaving the bar.

"Well _that_ was strange," Lydia remarked as they watched the man walk away.

Mac frowned, taking a drink of his water. "Yeah, what a…" he trailed off as a thought occurred to him. "Wait a minute!" Mac said excitedly, turning to face Lydia. "There was a lantern painted on the wall of that old church! And that was the last page we came across an intact seal. Do you think that guy was trying to tell us where to find them?"

Lydia's face lit up. "Mac you're a genius! Let's go!"

Taking a handful of caps from her pocket and setting them down onto the bar, Lydia hurried to the exit of Bunker Hill, Mac following behind.

It was fully dark when they made it back to Old North Church. "You were right," Lydia pointed to the white lantern painted on the bricks. A lit lantern sat under the painted one, shining its yellow light onto the door. "This must be the place."

Mac readied his rifle as Lydia turned the handle and opened the door. The foyer beyond was also yellow with lantern light, their shadows playing across the room as they crept through a large hole in the wall and into the main part of the church.

The larger room was mostly dark, the only light coming from the foyer and a patch of green glowing mushrooms that had sprouted near a fallen balcony. Mac noticed another white lantern painted onto the half-wall of the downed balcony, but before he could point it out to Lydia he heard the muted _pop_ of her pistol. He glanced over and saw a feral fall on the other side of the room, and a second come out from behind a pile of debris. Another pop from Lydia's gun and the second went down as well.

Movement from above caught Mac's eye, and he raised his rifle to take out a third ghoul before it had a chance to dive over the balcony near them. After a few moments with no further movement, Mac nudged Lydia and pointed to the next lantern marker. She nodded and moved forward.

They followed stairs down to the catacombs below the church, the green glow from Lydia's Pip-boy the only light in the otherwise dark halls. A few more ferals guarded the dark passage, but were easily dispatched before they had even gotten up off the ground.

Lydia stopped when they reached a dead end. The only thing on the dark hall was a large seal on the wall that matched the brass Freedom Trail markers.

"What now?" Mac asked as Lydia studied the round seal.

"Look here," she pointed to a red wire tacked onto the bricks. It started at the brass ring and led a few feet away before disappearing into the wall.

"Is it a button?" Mac pointed to the middle of the seal. There was a distinct break in the rings. "Maybe it opens a door."

Lydia pushed on the center of the seal and it sunk in, but nothing else happened. "One-R," she mumbled to herself, running her hands around the outside ring. "That's what the letters were for," she explained, turning the ring so the letter R was at the top. She pushed on the seal again and a series of clicks sounded behind the wall.

"The Railroad's secret password is 'Railroad'?" Mac raised an eyebrow as Lydia pushed the large button on the last letter. The bricks slid open to reveal a dark room beyond. "How clever," he quipped.

Lydia entered the room, the light from her Pip-boy only breaking through a few feet ahead of them in the darkness. "Can't see a goddamned thing," she murmured.

As Mac opened his mouth to tell Lydia to be careful, a bright light suddenly washed over the room. Mac raised his rifle, blinking furiously in an attempt to force his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness.

"Stop right there," a commanding woman's voice echoed through the stone room. Silhouetted against the bright lights, Mac could see three figures standing across from them. The woman in the middle was the speaker. On her right was a second woman, pointing a large mini-gun their way. To her left was a man holding a much smaller gun. "You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting," the woman continued. "But before we go any further, I need you to answer my questions. Who the hell are you?"

"Dorothy," Lydia answered without missing a beat, "and that's Toto," she nodded to Mac. He glanced to her in confusion. "So now you tell me: are you a good witch, or a bad witch?"

The woman regarded Lydia with narrowed eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a hearty laugh echoing from the hallway behind her. She turned to face the laughing man who came to a stop beside her. Mac recognized him in spite of the change of clothes and the ugly black wig he wore over his bald head. He was the man who had given them the last clue to finding the Railroad not an hour earlier in Bunker Hill.

"You're not in Kansas anymore, kid," he smiled, eyes hidden behind his dark glasses.

"Let me guess," Lydia said, boredom in her tone, "the great and powerful Wizard of Oz?"

The man laughed again. "Naw," he drawled, "but I _am_ the man behind the curtain."


End file.
